Underling
by grayorca
Summary: HIATUS, see end of latest chapter for author's note. TFP AU, post "Armada". Do two Starscreams contrast, cancel each other out, or are a force to be reckoned with? No slash. Clone's POV. Said clone, not an OC. Decepticon-centric.
1. Prologue: Underling

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** This oneshot contains spoilers regarding "Armada".

**Notes:** This is my first true try at fanfiction, of any kind, in several years. As such, it is to remain an AU oneshot for the time being. Should it garner enough interest, I _might_ be inclined to turn it into a full-length story.

Reviews are welcome. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated.

This missive is unbetaed. The only tool applied was the built-in spell-checker of my Firefox browser. Any mistakes are my own.

* * *

_**"Underling"**_

* * *

_"Bring me Starscream's head on a stick, and I will reward you as my Second in Command. All of you."_

_"No, you are trying to trick us!"_

_"Am I?"_

_"...Is he?"_

_"Accept my proposal, and we all win. Otherwise, you will merely end up terminating each other to get the spoils. It is your nature after all..."_

His nature.

Two words were all it took sow a seed of doubt in the remaining seeker's mind.

_"Exterminating you was so gratifying the first three times..."_

And yet, here he was. Alive. Intact.

...Well, mostly.

His right eye was little more than a crackling mess of glass and wires inside its socket. Blinking only worsened the sensation. Ruined though it was, the shattered lens remained synced to its undamaged optical nerve. The blurry, static-filled feedback, contrasting starkly against the clear, unfettered input of his healthy left eye, played havoc with the visual center of an already addled CPU.

Disorientation, a nagging case of dizziness, was to be expected. Between that, the scorched abdominal plating, likely internal damage, and a compromised leg strut, he had thought better of trying to remain standing. Upon waking, he only picked himself up long enough to hobble over and slump against the nearest wall. He wasn't inclined to remain lying face-down in a growing puddle of his own lifeblood.

How long ago that was escaped him. His internal chronometer still functioned. Forgetting to note the time of his first awakening had been foolish at best, idiotic at worst.

The seeker's brief episode of consciousness had been long enough for him to guess what his present location was. Dizziness and fatigue then lulled him back into stasis. The second brush with wakefulness only confirmed it.

The _Nemesis_' brig. He was all too familiar with these four walls. The chill was unmistakable. The floors, slightly pitted and worn with the traffic of so many pedes. The starkly-lit atmosphere that reeked of so many unpleasant experiences. Including more than one or two of his own.

In light of his present circumstances, by some perverse logic, it was somewhat comforting, reassuring. To wake up in this place, taking stock of his wounds, was nothing he hadn't been through before.

He paused, slowly pulled his hand from his faceplates, watched as shed energon trickled and dripped from his fingers.

Or had he?

He pushed the thought away with a growl, flicked the blood from his claws, and reapplied pressure to his still-leaking wounds.

With little else to do besides wait, he pondered.

The reprimand, as a whole, seemed rather light. Granted, at the time these injuries were inflicted, the _Nemesis_ had been in a stage of siege. He had gotten a look through the forward viewport, heard the approaching din of rapidly beating wings. An Insecticon swarm had descended on the Decepticon warship.

Fortunate for him. Megatron and his troops would be busy repelling the attackers. The greater threat would have to take priority. It had seemed the perfect time to stage a retreat.

Fat chance. Just as he made to sprint away, a crushing pressure suddenly pinned his lower leg. The calf armor buckled, splintered, and gave under the immense weight.

Desperate, the flier reacted instinctively, twisting around, bringing a missile to bear on his assailant. Before he could think to fire, a backhanded strike blinded his optic in a spray of energon and friction sparks. The force drove him to the deck, eliciting a shriek borne more of surprise than actual pain.

Stunned, he hadn't thought to react when the same hand reached down, cupped his jaw, and roughly pulled his face upwards. Megatron's visage swam in and out of focus, but his wide, leering grin was impossible to mistake.

_"A busy day for assassins, wouldn't you say, underling?"_

That word again. How it irked him.

The tyrant dropped the last of his would-be assassinators without another word. Heavy, receding footfalls stood in lieu of any farewell either might have offered.

The seeker scowled again, regarding the injured limb stretched out before him. Irritation surfaced. Were his optic and leg sound, he wouldn't have wasted another moment and hauled out of there.

A blow to head tended to muddle one's thoughts. He hadn't been thinking clearly.

So, here he was.

The period of time between his being disabled on the bridge and waking up in the brig, he wasn't sure what had transpired. His most recent memories, hazy and jumbled, only seemed to consist of staring dumbly at his pedes, dragging limply along a corridor's floor.

Evidently, the Insecticon horde had been fended off. Or so he assumed. The distant racket of plasma fire had disappeared some time ago. Following that, he must have been brought here, to be dealt with at a later date.

But that only raised more questions than it answered. Megatron had had the perfect opportunity to finish him, in the midst of all that chaos, then and there. And he hadn't.

Why?

"Why, indeed," the seeker mumbled, wincing as that simple utterance pulled on his wounded cheek. A glimpse of his reflection in the puddle of his shed energon told of the damage to his face, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Besides shatter his optic, Megatron's spiked knuckles had left noticeable furrows in their wake, deep, ugly marks that curved upward from the edge of his jaw, terminating somewhere above his eyebrow.

Lucky thing it had been a glancing blow, he supposed. There had existed a poignant beat between the deaths of his three comrades (idly, he wondered what had ever become of the fourth) and his being subdued. For a moment the seeker had feared Megatron would forgo the fusion cannon in favor of removing his helm by more physical means. Whatever had prompted the Decepticon leader to change his tact, the seeker felt almost grateful for it.

But by the Pit, those gashes were still leaking.

"Stop that, already," he hissed, impatient, swiping angrily at the ruined plating.

An answering pulse of pain surged across his cranial circuits in retaliation, prompting a frustrated groan. The brunt of the damage was not limited so much to his dermal plating as to the sensors underneath. They were all too eager about voicing their displeasure at being touched.

_Such is the balance of risk versus gain. Even if I had managed to flee the ship, there was no guarantee I would have cleared the battle zone without sustaining further injury._

As much as it pained him to admit it, he was better off biding his time. Perhaps there would come a time for him to ponder the finer points later, when he wasn't otherwise distracted by pain and confusion. And who was to say his... no, _Starscream_... would have been so understanding to learn that the mission, like so many others he thought of off the top of his head, resulted in failure.

He regarded his blood-covered servo once again, scowling in distaste. Acknowledging his situation didn't make it any more likable.

_If there's anything to be learned from this..._

Fatefully, the brig's only entrance whooshed open at that precise moment. He shivered despite himself. The noticeable drop in air temperature was no hallucination. Looking up, the seeker's wings bristled upon his recognizing who it was that stood in the doorway. They flattened in dismay as the broad, imposing figure stepped forth into the light.

"Resting well, are we, my guest?"

The approaching footfalls jarred the smaller mech's injuries. He grimaced. Hastily, he planted his good pede against the floor and struggled up to a standing position, bracing a hand on the wall beside him. He wasn't about to be spoken to sitting down, not if he could help it.

"As well as can be expected when... one lacks a proper recharge berth and other convenient amenities, _Lord_ Megatron."

A dark chuckle answered the enunciated title.

"Unfortunate. I trust you haven't been otherwise disturbed."

The flier hiked his undamaged brow and said nothing, his expression plainly confused.

The ex-gladiator was addressing him in a tone that was almost... pleasant, conversational.

_If memory serves, this is not the way Megatron used to speak to m- Starscream._

Already, the issues of identity were arising. He resisted the sudden urge to clench his fists. Primus above, what had he done to be brought into existence in this fashion?

"Well, regardless, underling, I should begin by saying how I regret our initial meeting was not under the most cohesive circumstances."

"Must you use that word?" The seeker could not stifle the acerbic reply that escaped him.

He shrank away, flattening himself to the wall, when the tyrant rounded on him. "I advise you that it is in your best interests to _tolerate_ it."

A stutter betrayed the seeker's half-hearted effort to conceal his nerves. "Y-yes, sir."

Megatron frowned, and, following a tense pause, straightened up. Still, the warlord's overpowering presence did not lift with the change in his posture.

"I see my former Second's influence affects you not only in physical appearance, but in habit and bearing, also."

_Oh, joy. Let the judging begin._

"To a point." The wounded seeker carefully directed his gaze to the floor. "It isn't as though I had much say in the matter."

"Granted. Had they, too, come to that conclusion earlier, your brethren would be as well off as you are."

One wing twitched at the mention, but the flier kept his face decidedly blank. "Seeker coding, sir. We're especially prone to thinking alike when grouped together and given a common goal."

"So I'm told, and have seen. And I suppose no goal could be more agreeable among a host of cloned, seeker knock-offs than my swift and immediate termination?"

_No lie there._

"At the time, it was in my interests, sir."

"Fortunate for you they are no longer around to sway your judgment. Now, considering you have no interests to safeguard but your own, given your options, am I wise to believe you thought, and still think, differently of my offer?"

He tensed. This was it. Self-preservation was all he had to gain. His short life was all he had to lose. Damn whatever promises and vows were reneged in the process.

The flier took a carefully measured breath, and lifted his eyes, all the aches and pains momentarily forgotten.

"Believe what you will, as you always have, Lord Megatron. The burden would on me to convince you I am worthy of bearing whatever mantle you would see fit to bestow."

He bowed his neck at the last, if only to get a handle on the intense burning sensation in his faceplates. Had that truly been so hard for him to say?

For the longest time, the only sounds were of hushed cycles and the steady thrum of the warship's running systems.

"...A fine reply."

Then the fine _shing_ of an unsheathing blade reached the seeker's audios a mili-second before the weapon itself came to press dangerously tight against his neck cables.

"If you can give me one satisfying reason to believe that you are not Starscream himself, that your change of spark is not one of his fabrications, and that never again will you fall so low as to carry out his pathetic plots, I _might_ be inclined to accommodate your request."

Never mind the blade at his throat. That terse demand was enough to inflict a total, mental gridlock. Genetically-induced memories dead-logged against his untainted, untapped traits.

The flier cringed, optics widening. A fresh trickle of energon bled from his marred brow, ran down his jaw to drip onto the galvanized blade.

Megatron's brows drew together, optics narrowing.

That was all the warning he was going to get.

An echo of a too-familiar voice rattled forth from a distant memory, a phrase he himself had never said.

_"Speak now, or forever hold your peace."_

"I c-can't, sir."

Megatron's jaw tightened. "Elaborate. Quickly."

The blade's pressure slackened enough for him to speak freely. "I-I can't. You see, if I could, that would give you all the cause you could possibly need to terminate me, wouldn't it? Starscream, h-he would try to talk himself out of this."

"Equally possible: he would go the other way, and would ply the very territory you yourself are now referring to."

The flier withered under the matter-of-fact tone. No point in denying how true that was. Again, he lowered his head and did his best to appear contrite.

"As I said before, my Lord, I cannot help what I am, any more than I can help who it was that formatted me. How can it be held against me that I cannot presently think beyond the scope his influence provides, but it is already clear that he and I are not of one mind?"

Another tense moment came and went. The seeker tried to quiet his anxious intakes, and ignore the bite of the sharpened edge against his throat. That was solid an argument as he could muster. The sense of fleeting mortality pressed in around him. It seemed he was only destined to leave this universe as swiftly as he had been brought into it.

The tyrant's expression gave nothing away.

He simply stood back, lowering his blade.

"Sincerity is a rare commodity these days."

That was hardly the response the seeker had been anticipating. _Sincerity?_

He glanced up in bewilderment. "Sir?"

Though it was a look devoid of anger, Megatron's face was anything but welcoming. "That is not to say I am taking your statement at face value, my guest. Merely that I can recognize when someone has been duped into believing a cause he does not fully understand. And despite our less-than-pleasant introduction, I am inclined to feel charitable on this particular matter, provided my expectations are met."

The seeker's tensed joints relaxed the smallest fraction. As much as the fiercely ingrained emotions of pride and ego raged at the indignity of being mislabeled one who cannot understand every aspect of a given issue, he found it surprisingly easy to put the sensation aside. Calmly, he met the Decepticon leader's gaze.

"I would be forever grateful, sir."

One spiked finger lifted and hooked itself beneath the seeker's narrow chin, stalling the bow he had thought to employ.

"I do not have any need for your gratitude, flier. Your abilities, however distorted and tarnished they may be, would be a great asset. As it happens, I am short an aerial officer in the field. While the posting itself would not be quite on par with what your... _creator_ was previously accustomed with, I am certain that with enough time, effort, and guidance, your service to the Decepticon cause could one day become everything he wasn't."

Perplexity flitted across the seeker's face. "Pray tell, how am I to achieve that?"

Megatron smirked. "Simple: renounce your existence. Forget all you know or think you knew. As of now, it is the only way you will stay in my good graces."

The warlord leaned in for emphasis. The flier leaned away once more, but could not look away from the glowering red eyes boring into his own.

"And speak not to me of the name Starscream ever again."

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** What do you think? Does this seem like a plausible scenario? It is what AU is good for.

To any who are concerned: no, I would not seize the opportunity to make this an OC-based story, using of one of Starscream's clones (much as I would like to *fangirl grin*). I already have an official proxy/equivalent in mind for the "underling" should this evolve into something greater. But I won't give away the name just yet...

**EDIT:** 5.10.12

Fixed some errors here and there. And I have decided to continue the story. Expect the first chapter to be uploaded within a few weeks.


	2. Chapter One: Splicing Wires

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Contains spoilers regarding "Armada", just about every TFP episode that came before it, and elements of the ones that came after. I won't be responsible for any disappointment this may cause. But then, what are you doing reading TFP fanfiction if you're not familiar with the show?

**Notes:** As promised, here is the continuing AU tale that began with my oneshot, "Underling". While the central story, from here on out, is of a different title, I thought it better to keep things neat and consolidated, and build on an already-laid foundation rather than upload this as its own fic.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to fav, subscribe to my profile, or even leave a few words of encouragement. For an aspiring fanfiction writer, they mean the world. *hugs*

Enjoy the first installment!

* * *

_"To betray first you must belong."  
_-Harold "Kim" Philby

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter One: Splicing Wires_

* * *

"You're certainly quieter than I remember you being."

The seeker's remaining optic cover opened in a squint at the medic's casual choice of remark. The other remained unchanged, sealed tightly under a temporary patch. For a fleeting moment, he wished he had both eyes with which to regard Knock Out with a baleful glance. Surely that would have been enough to get the hint across that the flier did no desire to talk.

Alas, he would not find out today.

For some time, only the steady, measured beeping, indicative of the patient's vital systems, had broken the silence. Besides a few cursory questions, neither mech had seemed inclined to broach the idea small talk. To note the flier's laconic attitude was a peculiar observation with which to open a conversation. But it was not so peculiar as to really surprise him.

How boring. He could do one better.

Frowning, he rose onto his elbows, and glowered. "I might say the same about you, Knock Out. But for all I know I could be mistaken, so I won't."

Freely admitting he was capable of being wrong. It was just one of the first few ways the flier could think of to begin differentiating himself from whatever preconceptions his 'shipmates' may have already formed.

It was enough to give the sports car noticeable pause, as the medic ceased continuing to weld the metal brace situated around the flier's lower leg. His slanted eyes lifted and narrowed.

"Much as I appreciate the restraint, it would probably make things more comfortable for both of us if you did."

"Meaning?"

Knock Out crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one leg, canting his helm the opposite direction. His tone remained nonchalant. "Oh, I don't know. You'd sound more like yourself, for starters."

The seeker scoffed, glancing away.

_Like myself..._

"A recent development, Doctor: the bot you see before you constitutes 'myself'. I'll try not to take offense if some of my habits strike you as off or disconcerting. But I'd advise you'd best get up to speed."

He looked back, unable to help the minor smirk that creased his mouth, or the accompanying quip. "Is that not something you pride yourself on, in form and function?"

The scrutiny behind the medic's gaze did not lessen. He did not appear to appreciate the expression. "Just this once, pretend I don't."

The flier's smug air deflated as quickly as it had come on. The smirk devolved into a thoughtful frown.

Right. Provoking the one presently assigned to fixing his damaged components, for no other purpose than to find a bit of entertainment in getting under their dermal plating, wasn't going to earn him any favors. Nor would playing the evasive card. The sooner he began forging favorable ties, the longer he was likely to stay alive, and he could think of worse people to begin confiding in than Knock Out.

"Very well."

"What do you mean by 'myself', Starscream? Did your extended vacation away from the Decepticons truly have that much of a life-changing effect?"

Despite the protests of his body, the seeker sat up and fixed the medic with a direct glare. No time like the present to begin setting the record straight.

"I am not Starscream."

Silence.

Then a grin crossed Knock Out's face oh-so-slowly. One could describe it as equally balanced between disbelief and amusement. "...Come again?"

"I - am - _not_ - Starscream."

"Hm." Knock Out gestured to the screens adjacent to the repair berth. "That's funny. Your medical files, these displays, and my ever-so-accurate eyes and ears, say otherwise."

_Hysterical, it is not._

"All of the above are mistaken."

"Well. Anyone who didn't know better would say you sure do sound like him. Look just like him, too. Same molding. Same vehicle mode. Same color scheme..."

"Different aims," the flier pointed out. He tapped his helm with one clawtip for emphasis. "Different mindset."

Knock Out scoffed, unimpressed. "Oh, please. Define 'different'. That your personality was of so many highs and lows was the only way it could be called consistent. I mean, between the volatile temper, the delusions of grandeur, the ill-concealed schemes, the bad-mouthing, the undermining - "

The seeker sighed, looking upward, gathering his patience, regardless of how utterly dramatic the gesture might have read.

"I'm well aware of my shortcomings, Doctor. You need not list them for me."

Primus, this line of questioning was already starting to give him a processor ache. And it was only the beginning...

The medic uncrossed his arms. "So, on the one servo you claim you aren't Starscream, but on the other you say you suffer from his flaws?"

_That's about as simply as one can put it._

"I rephrase: shortcomings that will eventually be overcome." The flier clenched his denta and laid back against the berth's surface. Whatever inhibitors he had been administered didn't seem to stem the developing pressure in his helm. "It's not something I'm proud of, in any case."

"Hm. I doubt anyone would be, including him," the sports car conceded. Finally, the medic returned his attention to fortifying the leg brace.

A few blissfully quiet cycles went by before he broke the silence again. "Tell me, what has former _Herr Kommandant_ Starscream been up to?"

Another sigh. There was the other inevitable problem in need of addressing: what his existence meant when it came to his 'creator'.

"I can understand why you'd ask. But I don't see how that's any of your business, Knock Out, besides being utterly irrelevant to the here and now. Even if it was, I couldn't tell you with any degree of certainty, anyway."

"Try me."

"I'd rather not."

"Let me put it another way, then: why is it you're finding it so difficult to believe what it is you think you know? You seem so positively sure that you're not Starscream, yet you can't bring yourself to say how you plan to supersede him."

"Why should I?"

"You have to know Megatron will bring it up sooner or later."

Only a deaf mech could miss how the delayed beeps of his electropulse readout abruptly spiked in intensity.

_Didn't I already say I don't need you reminding me?_

Rather than say as much, the flier chose to seethe quietly, and try to get an inward handle on his supposedly-short temper. "That time will come when it will. I see no reason to dive headlong into the investigation just yet."

"So, you're saying you're not in any way... currently in-sync with Starscream?"

"It isn't as though we are of a split spark, Doctor."

Knock Out shrugged. "Maybe not in the commonly-accepted medical definition, no, but in someway close to it? My preliminary tests show you are of an identical chemical makeup. You exhibit many of the same behavioral markers as him. Presumably, given the many positives and negatives of the cloning process, you've retained his knowledge and abilities, maybe even imprinted memories. Had you not, you would only have had the comparative sense of a sparkling upon activation. Surely, being a one-hundred percent _legitimate_ copy would imply you share something of a bond."

A feeling of complete, cruel realization washed over the seeker's chassis. The beeps spiked again. His remaining optic clamped shut.

_So, __**what**__ if I do? What I wouldn't give for that to not be the truth. If others were to know, it would only provide them with all the reason they'd need to back up their misgivings about my aligning with the Decepticons. Better to pretend indifference right now._

He managed to keep his voice level. "Again, I couldn't tell you."

"Might be better if you did. Remember, confidentiality still applies here?"

_Confidentiality. Does such a thing exist among Decepticons?_

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I can't help if I don't know."

_I haven't asked for your help._

"...I'll manage."

"You're sure?"

The seeker's eyebrows furrowed, as he grasped for a response would best appease the medic's prying questions. A few cycles later, he found it, and opened his remaining eye again.

"I'm not too sure of anything right now. At most, maybe I have a better understanding of what makes Starscream tick more than anyone on this ship, Lord Megatron excepted. That could one day prove somehow beneficial. Or perhaps I don't.

"At the moment, I really don't care. My presence aboard the _Nemesis_ is tenuous enough, let alone my very existence. I need not go around, boasting of past feats and supposed future goals, both of which I have such limited understanding, when anything and everything I have to say is already suspect. How can I trust anyone when I can't even seem to trust myself?"

Whether it was the words themselves, or the harsh, bitter way in which they were said, Knock Out had no retort. The medic indulged in a few moments of contemplative silence for himself. Wordlessly, he finished the last weld of the brace and stood up, regarding the seeker with a strange glance.

"Well, I can appreciate your forwardness, wherever it comes from. It's refreshing to hear."

It was the flier's turn to feel unimpressed. Megatron's opinion had been much the same. Though it was not unsettling to hear, it didn't exactly summon great feelings of hope, either.

He glanced away at nothing. "Hmph."

_What am I supposed to say to that, "thanks for hearing me out"?_

He flexed his servos. "Are we done here, then?"

The medic shrugged again, obliging the seeker's frame with a final once-over. Apparently, his findings proved correct when he made a second pass with a handheld scanner, the results of which came back green. He reached over and began disconnecting the cables tethering the seeker to the berth's monitoring equipment. The rhymic beeping ceased.

"As much as we can be. You should be well enough to walk, run, fly, and or anything else involving motion for the next few solar cycles. 'Don't get into any more scrapes' goes without saying. However, replacing your eye will have to wait until I have had time to prepare appropriately for the procedure. I have a whole roster of enlisted troops that I've yet to evaluate today. What's left of 'em."

The seeker frowned. Somehow, that felt out of place to his ears. Pompous or vain as Knock Out might come across, the flyer cross-referenced that statement against his unwanted memories, and saw why: Knock Out was not a physician to stretch out his patients' recovery regimens any longer than was absolutely necessary. The less time they spent sequestered in his sickbay, the happier he was, the more time had to partake in his hobbies, such as mingling among the Earth locals to impromptu street races.

"Why the change in method, Doctor?" He sat up. "Can't Breakdown - "

"He's unavailable."

The sudden tartness of the response startled the flyer quiet. That was clearly out of habit. Starscream had never known him to interrupt so sharply.

Knock Out, for his part, appeared ignorant of the reaction his simple words had caused. He yanked the final lead from the seeker's wrist none too gently. Grasping his patient by the shoulder, the medic roughly pulled him to his feet. The seeker cringed as standing put pressure on the still-tender welds, but the discomfort passed momentarily, and the affected limb appeared to sufficiently bear his weight.

Still, when the discomfort subsided, he straightened up with an indignant huff. "Well, I can't exactly see why _that_ was so necessary. Does the idea of having to consult an unknown number of damaged drones suddenly not sit well with you?"

"Assume what you will. At the moment, I'm no more obligated to give you answers than you are to me. Lord Megatron's orders were to stabilize you, and that's what I've done."

The half-smirk that crossed Knock Out's faceplates could best be called shrewd. He leaned in and his voice dropped an octave. "My advice? You've got a lot on your processor right now. Try not to talk yourself into any more trouble. That was the _Kommandant'_s problem."

_Again, you need not tell me what I already know._

The once-locked doors parted to reveal the corridor beyond. There, a host of Eradicons stood by.

No sooner than did they turn his way did the flier find himself staring down the barrels of four identical blasters.

Four powered-up blasters. Belonging to _jet-class_ eradicons no less.

He felt his wings droop against his back.

_Lame, Megatron trusted me enough to find my way here without any concern for restraints. No sooner than I am declared on the mend, it's concluded I warrant an armed escort?_

He wasn't sure if he should be disgusted or flattered.

Knock Out strode off with a parting wave of the hand.

"He's all yours, fellas."

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** I'll do my best to service each canon character faithfully in the course of this story. At least, as closely as they were portrayed by the time "Armada" premiered.

I'm not above re-editing if Knock Out seems too OOC here. Please let me know if he is.


	3. Chapter Two: Next To Nothing

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Same spoilers as were explained in chapter one.

**Notes:** Some action, some dialogue. Featuring a mech who is known for some of the former, and even less of the latter. We'll see how it goes.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Two: Next To Nothing_

* * *

Decepticon hospitality.

There was an oxymoron the seeker could appreciate, and second to the inth degree.

On this side of the war, one looked after themselves. Any act that could be called _hospitable_ only went so far. So, to be ordered back into the field so soon after receiving medical treatment came as no real shock. It had happened to his creator on several occasions, with mixed results, and more than once had he, in turn, ordered it of those mechs and femmes lower in the officer hierarchy than him.

No, what the flier found so surprising was the recognition of whom it was presently accompanying him.

Or, rather, whom _he_ was accompanying.

Soundwave.

To where? Only one of them knew, and the mech wasn't known to be especially talkative.

The eradicons hadn't directed the seeker back to the brig, nor had they acted particularly inclined to reveal why. Instead, the trek from the sickbay had ultimately taken them to a lift, one that brought them to a familiar lock: one that granted access to the _Nemesis_' uppermost outer level.

Soundwave was already there. Naturally, the communications officer hadn't 'said' a word (providing yet another oxymoron for the seeker to mull over). But a small nod from him was enough to dismiss the eradicon quartet. Even after they had gone, the former gladiator did little else besides stare in...

What, expectance?

Who could tell with Soundwave?

To the opposite effect, the seeker saw no reason to conceal his displeasure. He rested one closed fist on his hip and scowled. "Well?"

One long arm rose to indicate the sky spread above them.

The seeker regarded the hazy gray atmosphere with no small measure of dubiousness. From the looks of it, if the _Nemesis_ continued on its present heading, a rainstorm was imminent, at what could be called early evening on this side of the planet. His sensors automatically deduced the speed and strength of the headwind that wafted over the ship's hull. His current fuel levels were sufficient enough to go aloft, and his injuries were not so severe as to inhibit transformation. While a part of him was undeniably pleased with being given the opportunity to take flight, concern held him back.

The order was obvious. The reasoning behind it was not.

"Why?"

Lowering his arm, Soundwave's external speakers crackled with a minced recording.

_"...must bear witness..."_

The seeker's functioning eye narrowed, but not for the burgeoning irritation at a voice too similar to his being parroted. Apparently, courtesy for him did not extend so far as to include an easily decipherable mission briefing. On this, he was plainly annoyed.

"To what?"

_"...yet be of use..."_

"How?"

"..."

"On whose authority?"

"..."

This would get him nowhere fast. Paranoia alone had compelled the seeker to put up a minor fuss. But he would be smart to limit how much of that impulse he gave way to. Anything he disclosed to Soundwave could, and probably would, find its way back to Megatron.

He managed to keep his retort limited to a theatric sigh. "If you _insist_."

In speaking to Knock Out and Megatron, at least he had had some idea of _what_ to say, to confirm, deny, or defend.

With Soundwave, he hadn't a clue.

Taking a few long strides, the seeker leapt, shifted forms (albeit slower than he preferred, as the segments of metal comprising his leg brace split and shifted accordingly), and sped upward into the clouds.

Despite his misgivings, the rushing sensation of taking off pleased him, as he overtook the _Nemesis_' wickedly-tapered bow in one acceleration. From behind, his proximity scanners alerted him to Soundwave's transformation as the spymaster moved to follow.

A few miles later, an encrypted databurst pinged over the seeker's comlink. He decelerated to access the file's contents, allowing Soundwave a moment to catch up.

Recognizing the sequence of numbers, a set of coordinates, nearly set his airbrakes on edge, and he could not help a splutter.

_"The _Harbinger_?"_

Specifically, the bow. The half in which the Immobilizer had been stowed.

The half where the lab...

_No._

The UAV attempted to move into formation beside him. The fighter jet abruptly banked away and decreased his speed even further in response.

Frag that. He was in no hurry to get their destination now, not until Soundwave coughed up something related to the mission's intent.

_I will __**not**__ make it that __easy for them. Not just yet._

Flawed heritage notwithstanding, he was not so keen on the idea of rendering his utter and complete servitude this early. Not without asking a few questions.

A career among the Decepticons was a life meant to be fraught with struggle and challenge. Why should he lead them to expect any different from him?

The landmass below them had a local name, but the seeker cared not what it was at that moment. On descent, all he thought to acknowledge was the nature of its terrain: rolling hills, covered by a dense blanket of coniferous vegetation, sustained by a network of thin, meandering streams.

Drawing in close, he raced low over the forest, leaving the treetops swaying his wake. He angled for the first substantial clearing that came into view.

Soundwave followed.

Running this far to the west, a light rain began to fall. The seeker ignored it, nosing up to perform an in-transformation flip to land squarely on his pedes.

With the whine of an overtaxed engine, Soundwave reached the clearing a moment later.

Arms crossed, the seeker waited until the UAV returned to his bipedal form before speaking. "As much as I hate to waste anyone's precious time on pleasantries, Soundwave, particularly when 'time' includes my own, under the circumstances, you have to understand why I must find this revelation just a tad bit _odd_."

The gentle patter of raindrops over their armor answered him.

_He is aware of my situation, isn't he? Megatron has to have told him. Even if he hasn't..._

_"That blasted Soundwave sees and hears everything..."_

The seeker's frown deepened. Time to test the veracity of that statement.

One claw tapped restlessly against a folded arm, as he did his best to feign a look of contemplation. "You know, Starscream never appreciated being left out of the loop."

"..."

He took that as permission to continue: "That being said, he never appreciated much of anything beyond himself. One could argue it was a significant contributing factor to how he came to be where he is of late. As the end result of one of his many botched operations, I have his less-than-stellar record to learn from, to ensure I don't make the same mistakes. And in trying to remedy whatever unsavory opinion you or the others may have already formed, I don't see why a little free-and-willing disclosure from his former allies should be out of the question."

The facescreen remained infuriatingly blank.

The speakers did not crackle.

"I mean, what makes this errand so urgent, anyway? I hardly think there should be any more surprises in store relating to the _Harbin_- gah!"

Quicker than a CPU might process it, Soundwave took a deliberate step toward him. The communications officer lashed out, and gripped the seeker's throat with one spindly hand.

With a defensive growl, the flier lifted his hand to strike at the offending mech's limb. The invasion of his personal space was reason enough to remove it.

Only a familiar bark, shockingly close, not a recording, and not a memory, stayed the sharp, outstretched digits.

_"Ersatz!"_

Startled, he glanced up.

Where there had been a blank screen, the dark, scarred face belonging to the intruding voice was now projected.

The seeker's reaction manifested in a dumbfounded blink. A cycle later, he found his voice.

"Lord Megatron?"

The seeker looked sheepishly to his extended hand. Abashedly, he re-shealthed his claws.

Caught in the act.

The Decepticon leader's frown could best be called captious. His tone dropped to an accusing rumble, palpably low and dangerous, despite the electronic filter that distorted it.

_"Ersatz, barely six megacycles into your supposed bid to reclaim your creator's former post, and you are __**already**__ causing us problems?"_

The seeker blinked again and squinted, bemused.

_Ersatz?_

He knew of the word, one of the many millions that were of a planet with no standardized language. A quick search turned up its adopted meaning.

An inferior substitute.

Why was Megatron leveling it at him as though it were a... name?

A shift in the pressure against his neck quickly brought the seeker back to reality. He glanced down at the hand that held him. Soundwave's grip was firm, yet not to a painful degree. But it did not slacken.

_"Ersatz, acknowledge me!"_

A nervous stutter belayed whatever expression of composure he had tried summon. "N-no, sir."

The warlord's brows lowered, complimenting an already-disapproving scowl. _"My own deductions cause me to believe otherwise."_

"Well, Soundwave, h-he caught me unawares, that's all."

_"No more than you did him. Given that, I don't find his reaction as unreasonable as your own."_

The seeker scissored his hands together to prevent them from trembling so visibly.

"I was only inquiring as to the nature of the mission."

_"Lesson one, my guest: it is not your place to inquire. Not now, nor will it be any time in the near future, should you continue to engage in such pointless digressions. Disclosure comes only to those who can handle such information responsibly."_

Chided, the seeker shivered where he stood, wings lowering. He dropped his gaze. "My apologies, sir. I-I did not mean to overstep."

_"Hmph."_ Megatron sounded all but convinced._ "Proceed to the _Harbinger_. Attend to Soundwave as he commands you."_ The mech's helmeted visage already filled the facescreen. Leaning in, the bright, scarlet optics glared eerily as though they were the TIC's own. _"Then we will see what apologies mean coming from you."_

The image winked out as sharply as it had appeared.

Sighing in mixed exasperation, defeat, and relief, the seeker let his clasped servos drop to his sides. Wordlessly, Soundwave released his grip. Once again, relative peace and quiet descended on the wooded clearing, relieved only by the soft racket of falling rain.

Further delay would not do the seeker any favors. He returned to the sky without verbal complaint. Instead, he announced his displeasure indirectly: indulging in a few needlessly wide, rolling turns, veering this way and that, taking his time to rejoin Soundwave once the UAV reached cruising altitude.

That had been as clear a warning as one could have expected. The dumbed-down summation: _This is your life cycle now, like or not. We're watching. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. It is the only way you'll get anywhere besides an express, one-way trip to the Well._

Barring any unexpected complications, the seeker, otherwise now dubbed Ersatz, didn't see an immediate way around those established parameters. Simply speaking out had been enough to incur a rebuke from his superiors. Digging his heels in would only be counter-productive at this stage. He would just have to go along with it.

His 'memories' had plenty to say, and once again he did his best to push them away. Yes, it was an irritating arrangement to no end. But he had already resolved to bear with it until a more promising alternative presented itself.

Striving north, the two fliers left the rainstorm behind minutes later. Eventually, the woodlands gave way to sand, rocks, and the occasional cluster of desert scrub. Faint rays of sun pierced down through the weakening layers of clouds.

Two kliks from their objective, Soundwave descended, spiraling around to touch down behind a sizable rock formation. Ersatz followed suit. Despite the recent mental pact he had reached, the seeker could not help an impatient glare upon realizing the communications officer, once he had landed, had begun fussing over (of all things) a handheld scanner.

_As if you don't have enough readily-available surveillance technologies grafted into your very person._

Arriving on the least-offensive verbal option, the seeker deadpanned, "What?"

Soundwave pointed in reply. The indicated direction spoke for itself: toward the bow wreckage of the _Harbinger_.

"Yes, I grasped that much," the seeker grumped, pausing to wipe leftover rainwater from his face. "So, why have we landed here?"

The other mech's raised arm did not lower. A rapid-fire slideshow of graphics scrolled laterally across his facescreen. The search came to halt on a schematic detailing the wayward transport's build. Flashing icons within the image indicated at least three points of interest.

_To investigate?_

"Then what are you - oh." Ersatz stopped short. The implication was obvious: to scout ahead.

He gave a humorless laugh. "Oh, of _course_. How short-sighted of me."

Bowing in acquiescence, he strode ahead. _Of course he'd send me in first. Because only Primus knows what we might find here._

Upon reviewing the full import of that thought, the seeker scoffed to himself, and sought a distraction in the form of reviewing his available weapons. A cursory systems check revealed all to be operational. With practiced ease, he threw an arm to one side, pleased to discover the blaster within the now-converted limb to be charged and ready.

_Right. You know who they'll think they'll find. And if he has anticipated anything like this, there are two possibilities: he's fled the area, or he's remained behind. The lack of a T-Cog puts him at a certain disadvantage in either case._

The seeker glanced back over his shoulder. Soundwave followed, taking a page from the seeker's book to huddle behind available boulders as they drew closer.

_But anyone who knew would note, this isn't exactly Soundwave's forte. His specialties are observation, collating, and assimilation. Direct confrontation is his option of last resort. Surely a squad of eradicons could have been spared to 'assist' me. Why would he be along in this direct a fashion?_

Ersatz reoriented his focus with a noticeable growl, looking ahead with new-found determination. The first glimpse of the _Harbinger_ had come into view, looming out from behind a wall of rock, half-buried in the hillside.

Who cared why Soundwave was along? The fact of the matter was, he was, and they both had a task to complete. Never mind the fact his compatriots didn't think to share the exact details of that task with their trial-run field officer.

If everything went as planned, he would have time enough to dwell on it to his spark's content later. If it went better than expected, perhaps his just reward would consist of a proper debriefing after the fact.

If it went worse than expected, well, he wouldn't be in a position to say or do anything about it.

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** More kinetic than the last chapter, isn't it?

Soundwave, I love you and your creepy self, but you are so damn difficult to write.

Again, as I've said, and alluded to in the story, naming the seeker clone "Ersatz" is _not_ my bid to turn him into an OC. He'll eventually receive a canonical name, and a personality/backstory that, I think, would have befitted him, had he officially become his own character in TFP.

Have patience, my readers. We're not there yet.


	4. Chapter Three: Plausibly Undeniable

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** The same spoilers as have already been explained twice.

**Notes:** I bumped the rating up on account of this chapter (and others like it) not being so nice and friendly.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Three: Plausibly Undeniable_

* * *

What was left of the _Harbinger_ could best be described as old, but in surprisingly good condition given that factor. It didn't take a great intellect to determine both halves, given their fall through the planet's atmosphere, were in remarkable shape. That they had remained largely intact could be attributed to the _Harbinger_'s design. The transport's original purpose, upon commission, was to serve as a long-range, transient research platform. Being of a similar construction to the _Nemesis_, though on a smaller scale, her capable range, extensive shielding, and minimal-support sustainability made her a preferred station on which to work.

Her strength was in defense, not offense. Early on, it was decided that she would not join her sister ships in active duty. It would be more practical to keep her confined to the outer systems, a backup waiting in the wings. The _Harbinger_ was the ideal choice upon which Decepticon scientists could freely develop and test prototype weaponry, removed as she was from the battlefields of Cybertron.

Her 'defeat' had been something of an embarrassment for her given faction. An Autobot battalion had happened upon the transport's position in, what was then, an uninhabited galaxy. Their contingent outnumbered her, four to one, and little time was wasted on either side in declaring hostilities. Overwhelmed, her crew had been driven into maneuvering too close to one of the system's innermost planets.

While the final salvo had broken the transport in half, there were those who postulated that it had been the error of her navigation, instated by those on board, that mistakenly brought her within the planet's gravitational grasp.

And, naturally, most of those who accepted that story were of the Autobot persuasion. The Decepticon version read somewhat different: that the crew had willfully sacrificed themselves, in order to prevent their experiments from falling into enemy servos.

The two halves had laid, buried and undisturbed, for eons. The initial scouting of the _Harbinger_ wreck had had little purpose other than to ascertain her identity. Only now, as the bulk of the Autobot/Decepticon conflict had found its way to Earth, had her lost cargo become an object of value once again.

The next logical question: what was the precise nature of her cargo?

_Whatever it consisted of, it obviously wasn't of a significant standing if Starscream had dismissed investigating it so... haphazardly the first time around._

Ersatz frowned, panning through what limited information was available in his memory banks. Besides weapons like the Immobilizer, among the transport's various stores there were at least five protoforms, in Decepticon possession, that had remained intact. Those same protoforms had later been brought online as clones, of - who else - but the very same wayward mech who had once so flippantly disregarded assessing the _Harbinger_ to begin with.

He glanced down at himself.

Talk about irony.

If Soundwave thought the same, or then if he even _cared_ to think on it, the TIC wasn't saying. His prerogative had become clear upon setting foot inside the wreck. He sought only data here. Their guiding intel consisted primarily of schematics. The _Harbinger_'s on-board computers, aged as they were, still functioned.

Therein lay the potential problem, and the reasoning behind their present mission. The protoforms could have been the only the tip of a technological iceberg. There was no telling what other advantages Starscream may glean by claiming the wreck as his own.

_A preventative measure: better to act now, purge the systems, destroy the power source, and effectively scuttle what is left of this husk._

Even in exile, intentionally or no, Starscream seemed fated to remain a bothersome thorn in Megatron's side.

_Speaking of..._

Ersatz drummed his clawtips against the door frame, the only outward sign of his inner disquiet. His muscle cables were beginning to ache, tense as they were with expectation. Suddenly, the emptiness around them seemed like too much.

"You're _sure_ you're not picking up any life signals?"

Soundwave answered the seeker's query in the same manner he had answered it twice already: he didn't. With his back to the door, his attention remained on the cluster of antiqued displays before him. A steady melody of gentle beeping tones issued from the control panels his lithe fingers danced over.

Sighing, Ersatz returned to managing his errant thoughts, continuing to tap his claws. There was yet another memory-quote that was being proved valid on its face.

_"I do not enjoy being kept waiting."_

Boredom alone would compel him to act out if he did not otherwise find some means of occupying himself. And, as his borrowed history so clearly illustrated, such rash actions had almost never ended well for Starscream.

Soundwave had no need of a bodyguard, per se. Being that the TIC had the same gladiatorial conditioning as Megatron, there was no question of his ability to handle a threat. What made him so lethal was the notion that that was so easy to forget, in light of the communication officer's given guise. Silence was, in essence, his very identity.

_The embodiment of calm and patience - who could be more opposite to him than Starscream?_

_...And me? I suppose._

Ersatz brushed off the redundant observation. This was, apparently, the second terminal Soundwave had been tasked with deciphering and wiping clean. The first, now two decks overhelm, had taken just over a quartercycle to download.

Patience was essential. But clearly, seekers were not partial to this sort of remedial intelligence work. Up-front problems that bore discharging weapons and a distinct wish to harm whoever stood before them, that was more the flier's kind of conflict. At least by comparison to this.

_What say we do something about that, rather than stand around twiddling our thumb-joints?_

His digits stilled, as the seeker took a moment to settle upon a speech modulation that wasn't so like his creator's haughty drawl. He glanced back over his shoulder. Here would be as good a time as any to try it out.

"I'm going for a walk. Any objections?"

His ears detected a slight pause, however miniscule, in Soundwave's keystrokes. The visor's focus did not waver.

Faced with the TIC's back, Ersatz didn't bother to hide the disapproving scowl, nor did he glance away in shame. He had meant what he said, in the tone he had chose to say it in. The gruffer edge was unmissable.

Stepping from the room's entrance, the seeker took a few experimental paced away. Sensing the absence of any living body standing nearby, the door's panels snapped shut.

He looked back.

Nothing.

If that was what Soundwave wanted to offer by way of reply, so be it.

He strode down the corridor without further ado.

What, exactly, he was looking for, he could not say. Perhaps it was not even a need to find something that motivated him to action. Still, he felt strangely confident in the decision. Leave Soundwave to do what the spy did best, and use that time to verify that the _Harbinger_ was, indeed, unoccupied.

So long as nothing he did jeopardized Megatron's plan, what need the tyrant complain about?

Past experience (what little of that could actually be called _his_) left Ersatz with a rudimentary idea of where he was going. A few cycles later, one deck down, three corridors over, he found it.

A laboratory.

_The_ laboratory.

The very place where he and his four cohort had once rested, at peace and utterly unaffected by the trials and tribulations that consumed their living counterparts.

Why he went there, the seeker could not precisely explain. Which was just as well, because there was no one around that he needed rationalize it to. Besides himself.

He took note of the minor details: Disturbances in the dust on the floor. The metal of the walls now scored and blackened by electrical shocks. The empty storage racks.

It was so familiar, yet... it wasn't. For the longest time, this one room had been his world, as he _hadn't_ known it. By some quirk of happenstance, here he was, standing around, ruminating on how that had all changed so quickly.

_"Renounce your existence."_

He dragged a talon across a now-darkened monitor's screen. The shrill scraping noise emitted fell on deafened audios. He felt his intakes heave in another unconscious sigh.

If only it were that easy.

"One has to wonder," he finally mused aloud, unwittingly falling back onto his pre-formatted aristocratic voice. "If any of this was done just so you would have some peace of mind, to not be the only one doomed to live a cursed life, Starscream."

"Cursed? That's how you would describe me?"

Insulted would be the best description of the visage belonging to the lanky, winged mech who presently stood at the lab's entrance.

"You're awfully quick to pass judgment on a life you haven't lived."

Shock and expectation, when applied in equal amounts, tended to cancel each other out. As such, it was fairly easy for Ersatz to keep his reaction limited to a scoff. He also made it a point to keep his arms, and the weapons they bared, down. There was no point in crossing armaments just yet.

His attention went back to the empty berth. "Wouldn't you do the same?" he asked tightly.

The former Decepticon SIC answered with a bemused smirk and a one-shoulder shrug. "I can't say what I'd do in your pedes. All commonalities aside, I'm not you."

"Fitting. Then I know enough to determine you're nigh-incapable of being honest with anyone, _including_ yourself."

The tension stood for all of one baited cycle before Starscream saw fit to speak again. The cordial undertone vanished from his voice. "Your place is not to reason why, soldier."

Ersatz managed to hold his tongue, but his countenance turned decidedly bitter. _Of course he'd turn to addressing you as an inferior. Just go with it._

"Now, getting back to more pressing matters, what kept you? Where are the rest of our number?"

Glancing back, Ersatz pointed to his patch-covered eye without hesitation. "You might've guessed?"

Starscream's focus went to the console nearest to him. He seemed all-too-abruptly disinterested in what his creation had to say. "That you managed to be wounded? Yes. Contrary to whatever _others_ might have told you, I am not that slow." He paused, tapping distractedly at the controls. "Even if I was, I would've no doubt noted the unfortunate... _side-effects_ of this arrangement, and worked out what caused them by now."

A scintilla of unease prickled at the back of the clone's mind. His remaining optic widened a fraction.

"What do you mean, side-effects?"

"Don't insult me further by pretending indifference. You know exactly what I'm referring to. I'm in no hurry to see if the sensation is also true in the reverse. So, relax."

Stepping close, the outcast's expression turned decidedly thoughtful. "Truthfully, I'm pleased to learn that at least one of my armada made it through their first trial. It's an intriguing result. Finer workings of the cloning process notwithstanding, perhaps the potential for inherent variation blessed you with some sense the others did not have."

"Yes, it's called thinking with one's own processor," Ersatz quipped flatly, stepping away. He wasn't so appreciative of the idea of being visually dissected. He felt internal cooling systems engage in an effort to keep himself calm and collected.

"Well, I can see where that's gotten you. You would have been better off to continue following my set example."

_I'm aware of at least three other mechs who would beg to differ._

"To some extent, I did. I didn't sustain these injuries by simply falling down."

"Then how did you?"

"Playing my part in the latest half-afted plan for fulfilling your grand design. How else?"

"...He spared you."

Ersatz clenched his fists.

'He' needed no clarifying. No more than those three words needed an affirmative response.

"Why?"

The clone hissed. "Why? Why do you think? I did what _you_ would have done. I appealed to his authority, on the grounds I was, and still am, as-yet, too _stupid_ to know what I was doing."

"..."

As an afterthought: "No offense."

"None taken." Blatant lie. Starscream would only tolerate the direction their conversation was going in so long, which, needless to say, wouldn't be a significant amount of time. His optics narrowed. "But claiming stupidity alone would not sway him. Megatron does not humor anyone who does not give him something in return."

Begrudgingly, Ersatz twitched his wings, looking away.

_Wait for it..._

"And the only thing of value you could have _possibly_ offered him, that he would want - "

The clone spun, converted his arm into a blaster, and fired at point-blank range before his processor could have a nanoklik to rethink the impulse.

A nanoklik later, he wished he had.

Gasping, Ersatz staggered and sank to one knee, breaking the near-fall with one splayed hand. His arm and wing burned as though _he_ were the one who had just been shot. His good optic snapped shut as if removing visual input would somehow stave off the pain. A curse left his vocalizer of its own accord.

Between them, the truly-wounded seeker echoed his attacker's sentiment with far more vehemence.

"You glitch-riddled fool! _What_, argh... what did I just _say_ about side-effects!"

Ersatz forced a cough, dispelling some inexplicable pain's grip on his spark chamber, and glared.

Starscream lay across the floor from him, in a heap against the wall. A faint cloud of smoke lingered in the air above him. Energon spurted and leaked from the exposed joint where one black shoulder guard should have been.

_How do you think he knew of the others' offlining?_

The notion riled the clone more than he was willing to admit. Growling, he surged back to his feet. "Again, it's not as though _you_ wouldn't have done the same."

Scalded and bleeding, it was a greater struggle for Starscream to do the same, but he managed. "Oh, but at least I, having had an _actual_ history by which to weigh that decision against, would have had legitimate cause. Which is not to say Megatron would have ever extended _me_ such a courtesy in the first place. Execution is the only punishment befitting treason and desertion. Whereas I could have merely written your assassination attempt off as an operation gone _nowhere_ - "

_Click_.

Ersatz heard, and subsequently saw, the missile unlatch and launch before he could leap aside.

The next thing he was aware of was a greater agony in his torso, and that accursed voice cursing up an appropriate tirade he had not the strength to utter.

Grimacing, the clone looked down to see a sizable breach in his chestplate: an ugly opening full of exposed, sparking circuitry. The wound already overflowed with blood shed from ruptured energon lines, spilling out to stain the floor beneath him.

This time, the pain was no faux sensation.

However far the explosion had thrown him, he had landed with one arm crumpled beneath his prone body, half-wrapped over the chest wound. Even as he thought to rise up on his free arm, a foot came down upon his wrist. He could only grunt in protest as he felt its heel digging into back of his servo.

"Now I'm afraid you leave me no other alternative but to do what Megatron _should_ have."

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Put two highly-volatile seekers in a small space, this was likely to happen.

I did my best to write them on equal footing, and not let their bickering spiral into an argument that sounded too brotherly or father-son-like. Hopefully these kinds of conversations will become easier to imagine with practice.

I apologize if their little shootout felt a tad awkward. I do not write action so well. Until next time...


	5. Chapter Four: Some Kind Of Nerve

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Same spoilers. Same bouts of cursing, and intermittent violence, that keep this story's rating teetering somewhere between K+ and T.

**Notes:** Does 2500 to 3000 words sound like a fair length to keep these chapters to? I'm beginning to wonder.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Four: Some Kind Of Nerve_

* * *

His neural network came back online before his motor functions did. This left him little choice in terms of what to face first. And unfortunately, his recollection search came back as disjointed fragments, and no amount of concentration seemed to help piece the files back together.

If anything, he could only seem to narrow them down to what became basic colors, and what they might have represented.

Gray walls. Yellow light. Red eyes. Blue armor. A flash of green.

And lots of bright, azure puddles.

Garbage. Why was it he could remember Starscream's past with such crystal clarity, while his own present memories were little more unintelligible refuse?

"_Scrap_."

The curse of choice for any Cybertronian who found themselves in an otherwise unpleasant situation. Not the most original option, by any stretch of the imagination, but that had to be what made it so endearing.

His cause? Forget the memories. The very fact that he returned to consciousness at all was reason enough to growl it out. Frag whoever might have heard him. He heard a faint scraping noise as his claws curled in response to his discontent.

Naturally, the seeker's first physical impulse was to rise from whatever surface he was presently lying upon. It turned out to be easier thought than done. When his processor began to spin uncontrollably, none too pleased when its commands reached dead or damaged relays, he thought otherwise of the desire to bolt upright and stilled.

_Okay. Something less taxing, then._

Next, he thought to try opening his eyes. He blinked in disbelief, not when the shutters responded to the command, but as both uncovered optics registered clear and unfettered feedback.

There was a possibility he had not counted on. Hot anger abruptly turned to bewilderment.

_When did..._

Last he was aware, there had been a temporary patch over his right optic. The reason for it had been that Knock Out, apparently, did not have ample time to prepare for a replacement operation.

Long and sharp as they were, the flier's fingers were ill-suited for any kind of gentle palpation on the best of days. Lacking a reflective surface left him little choice if he wished to verify this find. Gingerly, he trailed one hand against his face, only to uncover another mystery.

His eye had evidently been repaired, yes. However, the furrows Megatron's knuckles had left were still present. He felt the back of his claws pass over the raised welts in his cheek that had yet to smooth out. Carefully drawing one clawtip along his brow, he detected at least two noticeable gaps along its upper edge.

_Stupid. I'd think if Knock Out found the time to fix one problem, he'd see fit to -_

He froze, glancing around at his surroundings. His lagging processor finally caught up to interpreting the reality of his situation. The puzzled grimace gradually faded from his face.

The sickbay. He recognized the room by its curving walls and subdued lighting. The berth, set at an angle, he remembered (in both respects) what it felt like to lay back against it. The station of displays to his right, with their gently scrolling graphics illustrating his biofunction readouts, they looked familiar.

How he came to be there, that he did not have an inkling to go on.

Slowly, as to not adle whatever had complained so viciously the first time, the flier sat up. Something within his torso, presumably an intake actuator, rattled unpleasantly with the change in posture. His effort was rewarded with a few body-wracking coughs.

One systems check later, he pinpointed the problem. He placed one hand flat across the temporary, hexagonal-shaped plate that had been used to close his chest cavity. A part of him balked upon seeing the blank steel precisely where his Decepticon emblem had been etched. But at least his inner workings were not exposed for all to see.

More importantly, that particular area ached accordingly to what he was feeling. It had to account for the faint wheezing that underscored each breath cycle.

When the frag did it happen?

Belatedly, he checked his chronometer.

He groaned in mingled confusion and dismay at what relative date it displayed.

A more apt rephrase of the earlier question: _how_ the frag did that happen?

One way to find out, and that didn't involve lying around here.

_First things first, disconnect these leads..._

As he reached for the nearest cable, a familiar clawed hand snagged the seeker's wrist.

"Ah, ah. No, _I'll_ decide when those can come out."

Ersatz could not stifle another groan of disappointment, and left his helm fall back with a dull thud. _...when I get a __**chance**__._

Trust his exhausted CPU and dodgy proximity sensors to not take notice the Decepticon medic's unobtrusive approach until it was too late.

"Knock Out."

"Salutations. Flattered you remember me. Not that I'm very hard to forget."

Unamused, Ersatz glared sideways at the smirking sports car. "Oh, spare me your perverted take on pleasantries."

"Huh." Knock Out made to check the cables presently attached to the flier's upper body. With his free hand, the medic held a data pad, which was promptly looked-over once the leads were confirmed secure. "Charged with watching over your lifeless body the past three solar cycles, I'd dare say I'm entitled to."

So, this wasn't some hallucination, and his chronometer hadn't malfunctioned.

Somewhere between what he last remembered, the _Harbinger_, and waking up, he had lost three days.

"You're a medic. To look after the invalid is part of your job."

"Aggravating as it was, that gives me all the more reason to not tell you what I know."

Ersatz vented a carefully-measured breath, belaying the irate twitch of an eyebrow, inwardly cursing how he felt so quick to panic. "An even trade, then: you tell me how I got here, and I'll let you preen to your spark's content."

"What's to stop me from doing that, anyway?"

_Point._

"The sooner you tell me, the faster I can get back to healing, the sooner I'll be out of your sickbay."

"I don't see how my disclosing sensitive information to you might expedite your recovery."

The seeker's talons curled again. Flickerings of distress surfaced once more. He was in no mood to be teased, and worse, in no mental shape to reinforce his side of the verbal banter. "Knock Out, _please_..."

"Sorry. You're better off saving your breath for the visiting parties. I was instructed to notify them the moment you awoke. Then we can properly catch up."

_Visiting parties?_

That could only indicate a few possibilities, none of them pleasant to cogitate.

"What?"

His tone, stuck somewhere between terrified and beseeching, only seemed to irritate the medic further. Knock Out's tart words indicated as much. "Relax. It's only to see for themselves what I've already put down in writing. No need to get so worked up."

Not exactly the most reassuring words the clone could have hoped for.

But it was something. Ersatz supposed he should be grateful to have been given that much.

He exhaled again, closing his eyes. "...Understood."

A few cycles later, the seeker managed to get a grip on his misfiring nerves. He supposed the experience was a needed one. With time, he supposed it would become easier to maintain his composure, no matter the circumstances. Yet he wondered if there existed a procedure intended to mitigate one's unbecoming impulses, some sort of persona recalibration. He did not relish the thought that there was no other way to really do so than with trial-and-error conditioning.

Still, his servos gave an unconscious twitch when he heard sickbay's doors part. With effort, he sat up, and managed not to gasp when he saw who stood there.

Luckily, the medic minced whatever greeting there needed to be offered.

"Lord Megatron, Dreadwing."

"Knock Out. How is our guest faring today?"

Ersatz kept his gaze down, tactfully ignoring whatever memorized images and voices those words conjured. Remarking as to the irony of this would only prove distracting. Galling as it felt, to not be addressed directly, the clone knew he would be smarter not to speak until spoken to.

Lest he say something out of spite that he would later regret.

"Well at the moment, which is to say much, much better than he was upon return to the _Nemesis_. The past twelve megacycles, he's stabilized just as I thought he would."

_Stabilized, how?_

While the blue-and-gold mech, Dreadwing, stood back, Megatron strode closer. The seeker did his best not to fidget under the unrelenting stare. Despite his best efforts, he felt his wings begin to tremble.

"And the long-term prognosis?"

"Good. Everything I've screened for looks to be back within acceptable levels. The repairs are holding nicely, no obvious indicators of rejection or infection. Another solar cycle of rest, to be certain, and - "

"You have six."

Bemused couldn't hope to describe Knock Out's reaction, nor his patient's.

"My Lord?"

The tyrant smirked. "Megacycles, that is."

_Ah._

"Sir, thorough and qualified as I am, my work here is still incomplete. Post-op observation will - "

"Can otherwise be accomplished by those around him. As it stands, I've permitted you more than enough time to sufficiently treat him already. Now we shall see how the end result of your reputed expertise performs under due scrutiny."

"...Yes, Lord Megatron. We shall."

_What else could he have said to that?_

Ersatz found he could absolve Knock Out of that much. But he was not about to wait a nanoklik longer for answers than he had to.

The pair departed without further ceremony. As the heavy footfalls faded into the distance, he waited for the perfect moment to strike.

Finding it, the seeker at last gave into his inner coding's demands. He reached out and snagged the medic by one rounded shoulder plate, pulling him back to the berth's side.

Pointedly ignoring the wheeled mech's exclamation of outrage, he growled a single command:

"Talk."

"All right, all right, mind the paintwork," Knock Out groused, shrugging the hand off, pausing to make certain the flier's grip hadn't indeed damaged his finish. "Where do you want me to start?"

Much like his creator, Ersatz's temper, once inflamed, did not relent easily.

"Where? The _Harbinger_. How is one moment I'm there, Starscream standing over me, presumably with a missile pointed at the back of my head, the next I'm waking up, three days later, to _this_ underservoed scrap?"

The sports car folded his arms, considering.

"Well, from what I've heard, Soundwave intervened in a timely enough manner that saving you turned out to be a byproduct. No big surprise there, when you think about it. My currency says he found a means of listening in on your little one-on-one."

_So, that's to say, Megatron also knows about it._

Something to worry about later. As if the seeker wasn't worrying enough to begin with.

"And?"

"And after he... _dissuaded_ Starscream from putting your lights out, or the other way around, he 'bridged in a squad of eradicons and brought you back."

Ersatz tapped one claw in thought, connecting the dots. So far, that followed.

"Straightforward enough."

"That's what I thought, too, until they 'bridged me in without _warning_."

The clone repressed a sudden urge to grin at the medic's dismayed tone. "Say again, Doctor?"

Whatever the reason, Knock Out redirected his irate glare at the nearest data pad. "_My_ promised downtime was cut short. One moment I'm minding my own affairs, enjoying the wind and the open roads, the next I'm back here, trying to keep you from bleeding out."

The brief feeling of amusement subsided. "And, what? That didn't prove very easy?"

"Not in the least, and an energon transfusion is something I could do in recharge," Knock Out huffed. "It took me three tries before I found the right compound to administer."

"That doesn't make sense. You... you have my fuel system specifics on file."

"Yes, I did, at one time. Apparently, we both made pretentious errors in assuming your chemical makeup matched Starscream's. Somewhere in the cloning process, your spark saw fit to develop along a different route."

Ersatz blinked. That made even less sense.

"H-How?"

"Well, by that I meant, it's no different than that of another in your class and of your build. Merely that while it shares a similar composition and energy signature to Starscream's, somewhere in the replication process, the individualistic coding - in theory - did what it could to re-organize what energies were available. Basically, a remix of the same ingredients."

The clone felt his wings fold behind his back, uncertain. _Is this a good or a bad thing?_

He said the only thing he could think to say: "Oh."

"Hence, why you've been kept in stasis. Between transfusions, I have only run a fraction of the tests that could tell what precisely happened, or if there's anything that yet might. That's the thing about cloning: simple as it is in theory, in execution there are lots of variables to account for, particularly when the original clone subject is of questionable health to begin with."

Ersatz managed not to scowl at the roundabout insult. _I'll ignore that._

He glanced over to the closed doors. "Suffice it to say, Megatron isn't concerned about this?"

"By what I've seen? Nope. Were you hoping he would be?"

Ersatz raised a brow by way of mute response. _Not anymore, I'm not._

"You know how he prioritizes. The Decepticon cause supersedes all. We deal with our own problems as best we can, when we can."

The flier rolled his optics, absently brushing a hand against where his now-missing faction shield once was. "Some things _haven't_ changed that much around here, then."

"Mm," Knock Out shrugged. "Though I'd be remiss if I didn't say I sometimes miss the way things were."

For a moment the medic had sounded almost wistful.

_Were? At what point?_

Questions for another time. "About that, who was that... Dreadwing, was it?"

"Megatron's latest, and so far greatest, first lieutenant."

"So far?"

"To borrow a human expression, he seems on the fence about fully accepting the position."

"Hmph. After what became of the last few to bear it, who wouldn't be?"

"..."

Ersatz eyed the medic's back curiously. The sudden awkwardness to the sport car's silence could not be missed.

_I'm beginning to understand what that's about, too, Doctor. There's no way you'd make such a fuss over transfusions and testing if Breakdown was here to take some of the workload._

"Getting back on topic, Dreadwing turned up not long after the whole debacle involving Orion Pax."

"..."

"You _do_ remember that, right? After defecting, you... Starscream snuck back on board, tried to raid the energon vault?"

"You digress." The seeker waved a hand in dismissal. "Say I do. Nevermind that. Go back to Dreadwing."

"Well, it's common knowledge that he is Skyquake's twin. And there's a name you should have no trouble remembering."

He didn't. Nor did he have any trouble appreciating the latent implications.

_What did Megatron say at the mines, "it's no secret"?_

The seeker slumped back against the berth. "...Great."

"Don't look so aghast."

He scowled up at the sickbay's ceiling, making a note to despair privately from then on. "I'll look however I want, thank you."

The medic shrugged again. "I wouldn't fret about it. You made for a very poor hologram. Dreadwing's smart enough to know you can't be two places at once. What, with Starscream in custody, he can see for himself - "

"In custody?" Ersatz repeated. He could not conceal his disbelief, and sharply sat forward again, despite the painful wheeze the movement elicited. "Alive?"

The other's hand pushed against his shoulder, forcing him to lie back. "Pick a position and stay there. I don't need you undoing what I've patched up," Knock Out lectured. "And, yes. You can't be in custody if you're _dead_."

"Depending on your definition..." the seeker muttered, optic covers dropping shut. He didn't bother to finish the thought. The beginnings of another processor ache, that was all he needed to top off this overload of information.

Thankfully, Knock Out appeared to sense where the conversation had turned.

"I can re-initiate stasis, if you'd prefer."

_It wouldn't change anything. The same issues would be here when next I woke up._ _If I were to wake up._

There it was again, that part of him wishing he never had had to endure this waking nightmare. Damn Starscream. Damn Megatron. Damn his own loose glossa, seeker coding, and self-preservation protocols. Damn them all to the Pit.

"...I'll have to decline."

"Suit yourself. It's your life cycle."

The flier growled quietly at the medic's blasé choice of remark, fisting his servos to keep from lashing out again. He didn't need reminding.

"Look at it this way: maybe the _Kommandant_ will do you a favor and manage to escape before you two need speak again."

"Maybe," Ersatz repeated, unconvinced. "I'm not counting on it. Given his record, Starscream's conduct should only warrant execution over incarceration. There has to be a substantial reason for Megatron not having terminated him on the spot."

_And I have a sinking feeling that reason is me._

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Interesting turn of events, no? Next we will see exactly what it is that I have wished to give writing a fair try. Hopefully it will be the chapter that lets me settle on a concrete tone and secondary genre choice for this story, too.


	6. Chapter Five: Two Seekers, One Stone

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** I like to time-jump between chapter cuts, as those who have read up to this point might have guessed. But consider this part one of a two-parter scene. Any ensuing confusion should be cleared up by the end of chapter six.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Five: Two Seekers, One Stone_

* * *

Six megacycles later, his assumption was proven somewhat correct.

Though certainly not in the fashion he had thought it would be.

"You? What are _you_ doing here?"

Ersatz ignored the voice, offended as it was. Carefully, he rose on his cuffed hands and glanced back over his shoulder. A glimpse of a chrome faceplate was all he registered before the door whisked shut.

Blasted eradicons. He had complied with their unspoken commands between leaving the sickbay and being escorted here. En route, he had come to figure out their intent. One look through the open doorway decided him that a peaceful entrance would not do. As he had refused to voluntarily set foot in the brig, they had resorted to a collective shove that sent him sprawling.

And that was as far ahead as he had planned.

Ersatz frowned, reluctantly glancing back across the poorly-lit chamber. There, the reason for his putting up that token resistance sat on the floor, hands cuffed, a study of crisscrossed scratches and dents, looking - of all things - appalled and confused.

Scowling, the clone felt his wings fold against his back in displeasure. A solitary cell would have been ideal by comparison. Wouldn't some measure of separation between them have been better for all concerned?

"I could ask the same thing of you."

To face Megatron would be trying enough. It always was. He would rather not have laid eyes on Starscream, either. To never see him again would have been so soon. And that was but a fading wish now.

Lacking the choice to simply walk back out, Ersatz took the next best action, and half-crawled to the opposite side of the room, into the shadows where available light did not quite reach. There, he sat against the wall, helm and shoulders bowed in a defensive huddle, drawing his legs up against his chest.

_All of this, to merely end up back where I started. With noticeable differences._

Some higher power must have been getting more than a few laughs out of his predicament.

A tense silence ensued.

Then Starscream picked up their stalled conversation exactly were it had been left hanging.

"So... why don't you? It'd be preferable to you just sitting over here, staring at the floor."

Ersatz flinched, annoyed that the other seeker would be so bold as to dare interrupt his fuming.

_Why does it sound like he's amused? What reason could he possibly have to find that funny? To find __**any**__ of this funny?_

"I'm not much inclined to care as to what you do or don't find preferable right now, Starscream," the clone growled, glaring over his bent knees. Through anger or some other comparable emotion, he forced his vocal tones down into the lower, flatter octave. If only to have some audial means of telling themselves apart.

"Oh?"

"Besides, I already know what _you_'re doing here. So, what's the point in asking?"

"...Clarification, maybe?"

Ersatz narrowed his eyes, returning his focus to the floor between his feet. A moment later, building resentment compelled him to answer. "You seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the situation, last we met. There's nothing in need of clarifying."

"Perhaps there is. You're just too timid to face it."

"Timid?"

"Indeed," Starscream smirked. "And don't sound so shocked. Once considered, you'd be inclined to say the same about me. Simply because I do not wish to look at things from your perspective doesn't mean I can't."

"Hmph," Ersatz cocked his scarred eyebrow. "When it suits you, that is."

"Admittedly," the other flier shrugged, though the gesture came across as strangely lopsided. His left shoulder's guard was still absent. The junction it once protected was his only significant wound, an unsightly burn covered in dried, flaking energon.

"And now it does?"

Starscream gestured as best he could at their surroundings. "As a means of figuring out why it is we find ourselves in this situation, and how we may get out of it, yes."

_'We'. His perception of what inaugurates an allegiance is certainly as flexible as I think it is._

"You should already know why - " Ersatz stopped short, glaring and fidgeting. The restraints at his wrists were not gelling smoothly against his ingrained proclivity for grand hand gestures. Most bothersome, especially when all he wished to do was simply cross his arms.

After a fruitless struggle, he gave up, mumbling, "This is all _your_ doing."

Starscream tilted his helm to one side. The smirk on his face did not waver. "How do you figure?"

_Perfect time to get the terms of our animosity straight. Look at it that way._

"You brought me and the other protoforms online. You ordered us to kill Megatron. You set everything in motion. _That_ is why we're in this situation."

Starscream gave another shrug, hands raised palms up. "I never claimed anything to the contrary."

"You got the others _killed_."

"That's strange. You all found the given objective so agreeable, too."

"Under such narrow parameters, we shouldn't have. We did not know any better."

"So, what, am I supposed to feel sorry? Regretful? How is that so different than a commander sending his subordinates into battle?"

"It's not the same thing!"

"And now that some _more_ time has passed, you've come to appreciate hindsight and now see things from another standpoint?"

_Time enough for me to contemplate that dying wouldn't have been so bad compared to matching wits with the likes of you._

"Only one as callow as you would reach that conclusion, no matter how they came into existence."

Ersatz hissed quietly, glancing away. His claws ground together out of unwanted nervous habit. If that comment had been devised to make him feel ashamed, it was working.

"...I didn't have a whole lot of choice."

"In a way. Between dying and living, it's no wonder why you chose the latter. Much as you may loathe it."

"Anyone modeled after you with half of a functioning processor _would_."

Starscream rolled his optics, unfazed by the verbal barb. "That being said, look where that choice has gotten you. I have no illusions of what Megatron may have in store for me. But look at your situation. What regard does he hold you in? I seldom recall any time previous when the Decepticons rewarded their newly-enlisted recruits with time in the gallows."

"Most of those new recruits were not clones of Megatron's former lieutenants," Ersatz commented, deadpan.

"Ah, that must be the exception."

"How can you possibly be so satiric about this?" The clone lowered his tone to a harsher whisper. "Has it not occurred to you that Megatron can and will exploit it?"

"You might say I'm counting on it," Starscream affirmed, pensive. His focus drifted somewhere off into the middle distance. "Megatron would not have bothered keeping me alive, nor spared you the solar cycles needed to recover from our previous encounter, if he did not think he could somehow benefit from our mutual recklessness."

Ersatz stilled his hands. He detested the racket merely flexing them seemed to cause.

"What are you suggesting?"

"That, for the moment, we agree to disagree. Until we have some clearer idea of what his plans are, neither of us are in a position to do anything about it. We're better off biding our time."

Ersatz scoffed. He sensed too much of his own logic in that proposition than was comfortably digestible.

"Three days, and that's the best plan you can come up with? I'm almost disappointed."

"Well, if _you_ believe you can think of a better idea, don't be afraid to share."

More silence. As the proverbial tide of irritation and bitterness gradually subsided, Ersatz withdrew into his thoughts.

Presumably, his creator was doing the same.

_Make the best of it. Two processors are better than one._

A not so simple concept when one was unclear what there was to make the best of.

By his chronometer, another megacycle passed before the brig's doors opened again.

Striding in, Megatron needed no introduction.

"Ersatz."

Said flier rose to his pedes without hesitation, and - once again - did the only thing he could think to do: he knelt.

"My Lord."

"Rise. There's no need for ceremony."

Ersatz did so, only to falter in alarm as he felt the weight of a wide servo come to rest on his shoulder. He almost jerked away. Carefully, he straightened up. The pressure at his arm led him to adjust his posture accordingly.

The touch, strong and solid, was surprisingly gentle.

Fearfully, he glanced up.

Megatron smiled.

One who did not know better might have called it approving.

"Lesson two: stand up straight. Your stance should compliment your predilection at all times. Closed posture isn't very indicative of confidence."

_Confidence? Now? In what?_

Ersatz swallowed the desire to ask as much, and bowed his head. "Yes, sir."

A baited pause hung in the air. Megatron sighed contemplatively as it went unanswered.

"You see, Starscream? There does exist potential within oneself to be unquestioningly obedient, even you."

A chanced look at the former SIC revealed much.

He did not appear to be embrace the philosophical quip. His widened optics narrowed, suspect. With measured effort, he gradually climbed to his feet.

But he kept his distance.

"Merely because there is potential present does not mean it need be tapped into."

"That's curious. For as long as I've known you, you've made fulfilling ambitions, great and small, your life," Megatron paused, glancing down at the latest acquisition to his ranks. "Miserable as some of those results have been, one cannot deny their entertainment value."

Starscream's eyes narrowed even further. "You always did enjoy playing the odd game, _Master_."

"They do serve to keep the mind keen and stimulated," the larger mech mused. "And this one will be no different, in its own way."

Ersatz blinked, puzzled by the almost-nostalgic tone.

"Sir?"

"Silence, Ersatz. You're here to observe."

The clone made a small bow in apology. Calmly though it was said, the tyrant's steelish undertone could not be misinterpreted.

"'Ersatz'?" Starscream sneered unkindly. "Never mind the choice. You're awfully quick to bestow any name upon one who has yet earned his keep, Megatron."

"In this case, it is called for. Even though he's presented a few unbecoming... mannerisms, they've been within acceptable margins for deviation, considering. He has already demonstrated a clear understanding of his proper place, which is more than could have ever been said for _you_. And, at any rate, I require some irrefutable means of telling you apart."

The flier's wings twitched, betraying the nonchalant frown that had creased his mouth. Abruptly, he avoided meeting his former superior's gaze.

"Why bother? I highly doubt our parley, however it may ultimately coalesce, will span that significant a length of time."

"I wouldn't be so readily dismissive. In this, I am extending you a courtesy that I had no premonition of having, let alone implement."

Another poignant pause came and went.

"What might that be?"

"Given his origins, his classification as a seeker, Ersatz's worth is largely unevaluated and untried. He is, at this moment, less than an optimal asset, unaware as to the scope of his abilities."

A glimmer of unease finally showed through the former SIC's visage. "If you say so."

"Yes. He lacks guidance from another sensitive to the needs of his pscyhe. As it stands, my officers and I lack the time nor the means to best address that. But, you do."

"...Me?"

"Indeed. My offer is this: in exchange for clemency regarding your past misdeeds, you are to serve as his adviser, and he is to learn as your understudy."

Ersatz stiffened, eyes widening. He had to have heard that wrong.

"His _what_?"

"My _what_?"

Apparently, the creator in question was no more receptive to the idea than his clone. Total, abject surprise colored his exclamation.

"Well, in that case..."

Ersatz flinched, hearing the telltale _shing_ of Megatron's arm blade. Even as he made to back away, he felt the hand leave his shoulder, and a sudden pressure grip his head. Fingers closed around back of his helm, forcing it forward as the blade was brought back against his throat.

"You would rather I forget such an arrangement, and your little science experiment, here and now?"

Starscream stood frozen, wings arched and quivering, hands clenched at chest level. His expression, the very defintion of apprehension.

For fear of what, who could say?

_Besides the fact that this would hurt like the Pit._ Ersatz winced at the sharp pressure at his neck. It took every iota of focus to calm his rushing intakes and think logically. _Cuffed. No weapons. No T-Cog. No hope of escape. The moment I'm gone, he's dead, and he knows it._

A moment later, Starscream found his senses, and gave a weak, shaken laugh. "Of course not. N-no need to act hastily, Master. I-It just comes as a surprise to me, that's all."

Megatron's optics gleamed dangerously from beneath lowered brows. "I thought it might. What I did not stop to consider was that you would so hastily refuse the opportunity to work with one who can no doubt appreciate your particular... heritage. It would be the first time in eons."

_Eons? Since what?_

That was answered with an awkward smile. It read as ruined as the former SIC's play at composure. "Yes, it would."

Ersatz coughed against the blade's grip, reaching up to grasp the weapon's offending wrist with both hands. Survival coding demanded he try prying it away, futile as the effort may have been.

"Since _what_?"

A second shove to the floor was his reward.

The clone fell with a grunt, wincing as his elbows and knees took the brunt of the impact.

He pushed away whatever urge there came to strike back, focusing instead on the floor below him, working to pacify his still-firing nerves. This was preferable to having his throat cut. To have spoken a second time, without being addressed, seemed to warrant a minor punishment.

"You will know in due time, _underling_. But if you should dare speak out of turn once more..."

Ersatz huddled underneath the warning tone, unconsciously retreating into the shadow cast by his own wings. "N-no, sir. It won't happen again."

Starscream's voice took on a hint of smugness. If he had felt any mirrored pain via the link, he had kept it well concealed.

"My point exactly. For any of my strengths, he has clearly retained the same flaws. How is it you can fathom the notion that I may somehow train him to know and conduct himself differently than I? It's lunacy."

_New question: since when did you decide consulting the ludicrous to not be viable?_

"In the end, it is sometimes the absurd that can prove to be the most practical solution. And again, it falls to an unfortunate shortage of present alternatives," Megatron seethed. "Among them, a complete systematic purge. But I believe we can all agree that to be an option of last resort."

Such a procedure was not unheard of, particularly among Decepticons. A forced mindwipe would remove every last trace of individualistic code from a given subject, leaving them nothing but a physical shell of their former self.

On this, both seekers wisely kept their opinions unsaid.

"As I thought. I do have _others_ to call upon who could assist in said endeavor."

"Do these 'others' have names?"

"All you need know is they are the seldom few in the Universe who may not be all that inclined to once they were to learn of your demise. And with your refusal having resulted in execution, my precedent would be set. I assure you, their own terminations would be quick in coming."

Ersatz stared at the safest target present: the floor. At least it did not care for the myriad of emotions flitting across his faceplates.

_Who is he talking about?_

Sifting through his memory banks would only be a waste of energy. So he didn't. Without a reference point, the images, mostly faces and names, remained, but he knew not what they meant.

Starscream had to have the answer. The deathly silence on his part spoke to it.

In the interim, Megatron grew impatient.

"While you're making up your mind, my former Second, why don't you bring it up with your would-be 'apprentice'?"

Ersatz looked up in time to see one spurred foot lash out.

What he crashed into upon landing, judging by how it collapsed on top of him, was too warm and gave too easily to have been the brig's wall.

The next his sensory inputs onlined, it was to the sound of sharp, pained breaths being drawn. Whether they were his own, or Starscream's, he could not say.

"It may as well be a joint decision between yourselves."

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Trickiest chapter to write yet, I kid you not. And I expect the next few will be no easier.


	7. Chapter Six: Comparing Notes

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two. I'm aware none of them haven't actually been referred to yet, but they will come into play. In ways you have (or haven't?) seen on the show.

**Notes:** No time-cut. Continuing where we left off in chapter five...

I'd appreciate some feedback regarding tone, whether via review or PM. I'm not so sure it has remained consistent throughout the chapters I have uploaded this far.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Six: Comparing Notes_

* * *

Megatron had left an impression, in every sense of the word. Besides the offer, the impact of the tyrant's pede had resulted in a deep, sizable dent across the center of Ersatz's chest plate, directly over the repairs Knock Out had, reputedly, been so thorough in imparting. One side of the plate had been forced several inches inward. Had said medic been present to witness the violation, he probably would have blown a circuit.

Neither seeker spoke. For what amount of time, neither one probably cared to note, no more than they cared to note the unnerving similarities of their thought patterns.

Finally, Starscream heaved a weary sigh. "As I mentioned before, _Ersatz_, even for Decepticons, this is an unorthodox way to welcome a new officer to the ranks."

"So, you were paying attention throughout all of that?" the clone hissed. Static laced his vocalizer. "This whole affair is unorthodox."

He had resorted to dragging himself to another spot along the wall, several feet away. There, he lay on his side, eyes on the closed brig doors. Helm against the floor, his audios easily detected the rasp of scraping armor, not his, moving closer.

"Fair point. But it gives you some actual insight as to how blind loyalty may not always be the best stratagem to take when one is dealing with Megatron." Starscream forced a cough, clearing his airways of an imaginary obstruction. "Though I must give him due credit for thinking beyond his usual narrow mindset."

_He's extending you __**another**__ opportunity at redemption. How is that different from his average range for flexibility?_

Ersatz exhaled carefully, shallowly, and cringed, biting his lip as he felt another burning pulse, one that wasn't meant to be there, flow outward, somewhere in the vicinity of his spark chamber. He shut his eyes. The pain, though tolerable, moved sluggishly, gradually eeking its way along major circuits and energon lines. Whatever had been re-broken was taking its sweet time to dampen the sensation.

"Yes, praise be to him."

_Frag._ That had sounded far too breathless for his liking.

He started, eyes opening wide, as the other's hands suddenly brushed against his upper arm.

"Hold still. At least let me take a look what it is presently paining us."

Ersatz scowled. "I'll pass." Stubbornly, he faced away from his cellmate, curling more tightly in on himself. "You're no medic."

"I know enough to diagnose when one is suffering from internal bleeding. And by your bouts of silence and current intake cycles, I can't help but wonder if those are signs you're going into shock. If that's the case, I'd rather like to know."

"What difference would it make?" The scowl became a bemused frown. "You obviously didn't perish when the other clones passed."

Starscream partook in another sigh, as though annoyed with having to explain himself. Which was most likely the reason.

"No. In those instances, it was a noticeably quicker sensation to endure. This isn't. Given one's choices when it comes to offlining, slowly and painfully is not a kind of death I wish to experience. And, at any rate, we are most-likely expected to reach a timely consensus. So, if you would oblige me?"

_I... guess I can't argue with that._

Slowly, with some effort, he rolled back and stretched out.

Perhaps his creator would do them both a favor and use what killing tools were available, his claws, to expedite said passing. It would certainly make Starscream's bid at rejoining his former faction less complicated.

_If_ rejoining them was his intent.

But instead of attacking the unguarded clone, he leaned over, examined the blunt force wound with a certain deftness, and hummed in thought.

Ersatz stared. The realization hit.

_You're of no use to him dead, remember?_

It didn't mitigate the rush of incredulity he felt.

"You're considering the proposal?"

"Hmm. Not as bad as I thought," the older seeker muttered, distracted, then looked up. "Aren't you?"

"Why would - " Catching himself, the clone groaned aloud in dismay, staring upward. Alas. They were back to the already-tired repertoire of answering questions _with_ questions.

"What? I take it you're not."

Turning over, Ersatz placed his bound servos beneath his body, slowly bringing himself to lean up against the wall. He waited for the resulting aches to subside before speaking. "From where I stood, you didn't look so enamored with the idea."

Starscream shrugged, sitting back on his heels. "Chalk it up to an intrinsic reaction. I never took being surprised very well."

_So I noticed. But once you had time to think about it, your outlook changed._

_Just as it did for me in deciding to follow __**your**__ lead._

Ersatz sighed. "It's unbelievable, is what it is."

"In what respect?"

"What respect? _Every_ respect. Here, Megatron's been given the perfect opportunity to execute you, and instead he offers you lenience, on the grounds that you have the requisite know-how that can temper my undesirable behaviors. It flies in the face of any imaginable argument one could apply to the contrary."

"Name one."

"He claims it is the most practical option he can employ, despite having others available to pick from. Practical in what way?"

"To show due graciousness to an old comrade. We weren't always on such malicious terms. Shared history has to count for something."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, please," Ersatz added tiredly. "But I seem to recall _you_ having said something about desertion meriting execution."

"_I_ didn't desert so much as it... worked out that way."

"You mean after your pact with the Autobots went down in flames."

"Not so different when you consider how your assassination attempt played out," Starscream countered. "And you think that would be cause enough for Megatron to terminate me? One transgression does not a reputation make."

"So, why leave us here to deliberate together? That's just asking for potential trouble. He has to know that. Why not question us separately?"

"Because he already holds you in some regard. Enough to believe whatever plan I may devise, you'll refuse to go along with."

Ersatz grimaced as his newest injury twinged again. "Whatever good standing I have, it's not enough to keep a blade from my neck or from getting kicked in the chest?"

"Precautionary measures. It's the same treatment for anyone whose voice doesn't need hearing in a given matter. Or force of habit, being that you just happen to look like me. I'm not sure."

The clone scoffed. He was less than pleased with the latter theory. "Perhaps I should consider undergoing some modulations."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Starscream lectured. "Knock Out's likely had enough of treating you for the time being."

"What? Are you afraid I'll consult him on upgrade suggestions? If I ask nicely enough, I'll persuade him to scrounge up a new T-Cog for you."

The former SIC frowned, clearly unamused. Then he stood, taking a few steps away, as if breathing room would allow him to think more clearly. "I'm afraid it won't get to such a point if we don't decide on a workable course of action soon."

Ersatz remained seated against the wall. To that, he gave a resigned sigh.

"Okay. Say we do agree to this. What did Megatron mean by I could appreciate your 'heritage'?"

"You have a functioning cross-comparative cortex. You figure it out."

"I'd rather _hear_ it from someone who's lived the life."

The other spared him a sharp, withering look before relenting. "It speaks to his opinion on seekers as a race, moreso than on you or I, per se. It's not commonplace for a seeker to operate by his or herself. Perhaps he believes being parted from my own kind for such extended period of time had some... adverse affects on my judgement."

Ersatz hiked an eyebrow and glanced away. _Among other things._

"Would one of those affects be what resulted in your massively overblown ego?"

Starscream's wings mantled, but his expression remained acutely stoic. "Unchecked, yes, that could have had something to do with it. Individually, seekers, in general, have always been known for their radical persona programming. It is, predominantly, what separates us, behaviorally, from other fliers, barring certain other physical and social characteristics."

"Such as?"

"Our propensity for flocking, for one. Operating as a unit compensates for whatever imbalances there may be. Trines, wings, squadrons - whatever the field, that system of organization was implemented as a means of management."

A moment later, the explanation was followed by a venomous afterthought: "Also of interest, said system was instated by those on Cybertron who believed we, as a people, _required_ managing."

Ersatz paused, considering how best to carefully steer away from the incoming history lesson. As it stood, the words were evoking more panoramic memories that he did not wish to face. Not until he had more facts.

"I'm guessing that's where the term 'seeker' came from - we always seem to be looking for something?"

"In a way, yes. We do not take well to standing idle. Each of us is innately partial to achieving a set of goals. Only our class is known to take such drives to fanatical or insane extremes. It was the primary basis for many Cybertronians' taking prejudice toward us."

"And Megatron is one of those so biased?"

"Was, apparently," the older seeker mused. "But his opinions were always subject to change, so I'm not jumping to conclusions. We still don't know what he hopes to achieve with this ploy."

"Besides my total and complete servitude to the cause?"

"What, _exactly_," Starscream stressed. "Rendering your obedience goes without saying."

Ersatz smirked. Even a bitter sense of humor was better than to harbor none at all. "Naturally."

"Ergo, why has he thought to ask me to monitor you? I am the only other seeker within lightyears of this planet. Much as it might gall him, it's his most convenient bet."

"Convenience alone can't be the only factor that qualifies you. Should it really outweigh the risk he takes in doing so?"

Starscream's claws tapped in thought. "He would deal with whatever troubles arose as they came, no matter in what form. His leaving us to debate this between ourselves is likely the first leg of how he hopes to gain our confidence. Rather than the other way around."

"Gain _our_ confidence? Why?"

The tapping ceased. "That's what we've yet to find out."

Ersatz sighed, taking a moment to compile all the newly-acquired data. The painful hitch in his intake cycles had finally smoothed out. The dent now looked worse than it felt.

"Then... the others Megatron mentioned, do you have any guesses to who they are?"

"Seekers? Tch. None whatsoever."

"...You're certain?"

Starscream turned away, wings folding back. "...Yes."

Ersatz scowled. _One-word answers, coming from him? A transparent try at denial._

He stood. "I may have only been brought online a few days ago, but I know a threat when I hear one, Starscream."

"..."

Ersatz glared, claws flexing as repressed ire came back to the fore. He willed his voice to stay level. "He wouldn't bring up the topic if he didn't believe it couldn't persuade you. And if there are any other beings in this Universe you hold in some esteem, compassionately or not, I have a _right_ to know. Who was Megatron talking about?"

Starscream glanced sidelong at him, optics thin and glinting. "Whatever right you may have pales in comparison to the reasons I know you're better off not knowing. If you're so driven to eventually go your own way, you need not concern yourself with undue baggage."

"You call it undue, I might call it pertinent."

"_Might_ being the key term. It would only distract and mislead you, two things neither of us need."

"So would my not-knowing what _it_ is."

"Until we know better, you're to be kept unawares, and that's final," Starscream stated firmly.

Labeling the argument as momentarily lost, Ersatz turned away, sulking.

"To be frank, I'll have enough to manage without you getting your servos where they shouldn't be. Simply assimiliating all that has transpired since my... leave of absence will take up any free time I can expect."

"Hmph," Ersatz glanced back. "You _might_ be surprised at how much you'd be mistaken there. Your old post belongs to another. I doubt Megatron's generosity would extend so far as to re-grant it to you."

"Airachnid?"

The clone shook his helm, shrugging. "Still rogue, as far as I can tell."

"Then who?"

Ersatz hesitated. While he had held no true place in the Decepticon ranks, and all the benefits, glory, and stigmas therefore, his creator was another story. To break this information to him, in the simplest format possible, would probably be the safest method.

"...Dreadwing."

Predictably, Starscream squinted in confusion. "Who?"

"Skyquake's twin."

The puzzlement quickly morphed into a horrified stare.

"_He_ is Second in Command?" The former's once-smooth vocal tone pitched a few decibels higher. In fear, vexation, or a combination of the two.

"I... can't say. Knock Out alluded to as much."

Needless fretting would get them nowhere. Luckily, his cellmate appeared to realize as much. Starscream focused, instead, on finishing his roll call, glancing away distractedly. "Y-yes, Knock Out. And Soundwave is present, as always."

"Sans Breakdown, that would account for all of the higher echelon."

"Breakdown?"

Ersatz shrugged again. "Missing, presumably offline. Whatever the cause, I think it's safe to say you won't be able to call in his debt."

Of his borrowed memories, Breakdown's abduction by MECH was one of the most vivid. Particularly the laconic deal made in the aftermath.

_"You will repay your debt... the day it comes time to choose sides."_

The reminder was met with a quiet growl. Starscream sat back down against the wall, elbows resting on his knees. "Wonderful..."

"These things happen," Ersatz reasoned, smiling uneasily. "Your experience suggests there'll be other opportunities. Not that either of us need to go about making deals without first - "

The other seeker shot him a indignant glare. "Yes, yes. I don't need you reminding me."

The clone paused, blinking dumbly, before coming to understand.

"Yes, right. And as for Dreadwing, trust he's as devout to Megatron's will as his twin, and that that will keep him at bay. Even if Skyquake was awakened under your command, it's the Autobots who caused his actual death."

Starscream scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Small comfort."

"The only kind you or I can afford, I'm afraid," Ersatz frowned, crouching down so they were once again at optic level. "In the face of adversity, to look at the bright side was never one of your strong points, was it?"

"..."

"..."

"So, you're saying you'll agree to the offer?"

The frown became a petulant smirk. "To survive? Yes."

_To work with the likes of you or Megatron - that remains to be seen._

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Thus concludes, what could be called, act one of BITS. The stage is set. Thank you to all who have followed the story so far!

The take on seeker psychology, at least in regard to the Primeverse, is my own (just as the summarized history of the _Harbinger_ was). I apologize in advance if it seems borrowed from any other continuities or other examples of fanfiction. If so, it is as coincidental as it is unintentional, and no offense is meant.

Happy Memorial Day!


	8. Chapter Seven: Ground Rules

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Act two, scene one. We have a change of scenery, but this is more of what I write best - dialogue. I added in what action I could.

For those new to the story, I suggest you go back and read what came before this. You'll be terribly confused if you don't, I promise.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Seven: Ground Rules_

* * *

Besides serve in the interests of keeping themselves alive, the deal had its thread of logic, however miniscule.

Once one got past the snarkiness, misplaced avidity, and flowery words, Starscream's working attitude was amicable enough. Attempts on each other's lives, evidently, could be put aside in favor of a common goal.

And, admittedly, it was nice to have another present who could understand his lapses in proper conduct. Even if said party _was_ to blame for imparting those less-than-desirable attributes, they were more given to forgive it whenever one of them happened to flare up.

For that, and that alone, Ersatz supposed he was grateful.

Every other aspect about Starscream left much to be desired.

Including SIC-turned-adviser's views on what was to be considered an effective training regimen. That began no less than a solar cycle after notifying Megatron of their intent to comply. Halfway through said solar cycle, Ersatz was starting to find out what his end of the agreement was going to entail.

"I don't - ah!"

His footing lost, Ersatz fell with a resounding clank against the ice-coated stone. Immediately, he felt himself begin to slip. He twisted around, instinctively grasping at the slick surface to prevent himself from sliding haphazardly off the narrow cliff face that he had attempted to land upon.

Thankfully, his claws caught and held fast. A mental note: he should have landed, and _then_ transformed. The mounting fatigue was starting to overclock his drives. His pedes were far from ideal to have made that landing with any finesse under the best of circumstances, too.

Panting, he hauled himself up the slippery incline. His anxious breathing did not drown out the sound of his companion's ill-concealed snickering, much to the younger flier's annoyance.

"I don't... see... the point," Ersatz finished, pulling the upper-half of his body over the ledge. "Knock Out said I was fit for duty, and he reached that conclusion after three days of observation. What more is there to evaluate?"

Nonplussed, a waiting Starscream crouched down beside him, leaning over to retrieve the magnetic-held, disc-shaped monitoring device from the base of his student's wing, and wordlessly returned to his improvised roost beneath the overhang. Connecting it to the portable console, the data stored within began to download, producing a symphony of beeps that echoed jovially about the hollow. He frowned at the results on the screen, and refused to meet his understudy's acerbated gaze.

Not to be outdone in theatric motions, Ersatz rolled his optics and sighed, wings drooping.

All throughout the session, Starscream had been acting rather distant and withdrawn. Evidently, he took this task, however medial, quite seriously. After so many lunar cycles of doing little more than scrounging for energon and shelter, it was probably a preferable distraction for the former commander to now bear.

Or maybe it was just the lack of a T-Cog, and the flight it would permit, manifesting in overproportionate jealously that was fueling this latent ruthlessness.

A sequence of lights flashed across the console's board. Removing the device from its station, the older seeker strode back to the overhang's edge, leaning over to reattach it to his waiting student's wing.

"Qualified as he is, Knock Out's opinions are - at best - academic in terms of what he thinks declares a flier as 'fit for duty'. Such is the price he pays for being of a terrestrial disposition."

Shrewdly, he added:

"What he calls sublime, I call second-rate."

_Second-rate?_

The disc snapped back into place with an affirmative chime. Ersatz bristled, ignoring the now-familiar icon that reappeared in the corner of his HUD. "And who's to say you are even being objective in that declaration?"

Starscream turned away. "Oh, you'll know. Just as soon as your mettle has a chance to be showcased in the field."

The field. Somehow, that equated with flying back and forth, from end to end, along this accursed continent's largest mountain range.

Sighing again, Ersatz finished the last measure of the climb. Cross-legged, he sat at the platform's edge and closed his eyes, allowing his joints and muscle cables a well-earned reprieve. Here, the high-altitude breezes could help cool and soothe his heated plating.

He consulted his chronometer, not for the first time, and groaned, uncaring for how whiny it may have sounded.

"We've been at this for _twelve_ megacycles, since before the sun came up. Isn't that testing enough for one day?"

"Stick with that tone, we'll stay for twelve more."

Something skittered across the overhang's stone floor, and came to a stop against his unmoving servo. Ersatz didn't stir. He knew what it was: an energon cube, one of the presumably-few left from their allotted stash.

"Now, fuel up."

Reluctantly, he snatched the cube up and retreated to a nearby nook in the stone wall. Framed by snow, ice, and shade, it more than compensated for what his internal cooling fans could not handle, moreso than the breeze. It had become his little slice of paradise, where the local sun's remorseless rays did not reach.

A few blissfully silent cycles passed.

"Simply because you share my genetic code does not necessarily mean you possess my speed and endurance. Unfortunately."

Ersatz lowered the cube from his mouth, taking a beat to allow the last swallow to settle before replying. He glared up at the blue skies above, again, as though patience were to be found there.

"I gathered that much."

"And even should you _not_ attain the desired speeds, within the desired time frame, over the chosen terrain, by utilizing this repetitive method, no one can say you did not _try_."

"So, that's what this is about? Collecting information that refutes Knock Out's medical report?"

"That would be one reason," Starscream muttered, distractedly. Besides energon, the former SIC had requested information, detailing all the relevant Decepticon operations that had taken place during his absence. This wish had been granted in the form of a pile of data pads, which he was otherwise busy reading. "Among others."

_Of which you're not going to discuss._

Ersatz lifted the ration cube back to his lips, using it to curb another impotent growl before it could sound.

A moment later, he bethought the impulse.

_Discuss it. It'd buy me some more time to rest before he decides I need to commence another run._

"You think is this still considered standard procedure for breaking in new aerial warriors?"

Starscream shrugged, but did not rise from the seat, made of gathered boulders, that he lounged against. Nor did his eyes leave the data pad presently in his hand.

"Well... yes, for the most part. Admittedly, some aspects will need to be tailored to account for particular factors. And I wouldn't go so far as to call yourself a warrior. Neither of us knows what Megatron's exact plan is when it comes to making use of your _talents_."

Skeptical, Ersatz's scarred eyebrow lowered. "Whatever the exact plan may be, it's expected of all Decepticons to _put up_ resistance in the light that they _encounter_ resistance. Even the miner classes are given basic self-defense courses, wasted as the time is on most of them. And opposition can extend to include one's own tutors."

"You're just complaining because you believe you're more 'experienced' than the average inductee, and are therefore exceptional. Knowing better, owing to _actual_ experience, I have to disagree."

The smirk didn't need to be seen. The words conveyed it effortlessly.

Ersatz's servos tightened around the cube. _You don't __**want**__ to know what I believe._

"You'll have to forgive me: I must disagree in kind."

Starscream scoffed. "Of course you would."

"Again, you say you would. Doesn't mean you have to confirm as much, remember?" Ersatz responded tightly. "Can we at least pretend between ourselves that I do _not_ appreciate, grasp, and understand every nuance relating to _you_?"

"Again, is it that because you wish to keep up appearances, or that you find the greatness of your lineage too daunting to comprehend?"

Long claws curled archly against the now-empty cube.

_Insufferably arrogant fragger. Lineage is the __**last**__ word I want to hear coming from him._

It could not go on like this. Not with his fickle temper. Not if he had any hope of staying on good terms with Megatron. He could not take the chance. And by what he knew, there was only one surefire way to earn his creator's compliance.

Growling, Ersatz turned and raised his right arm, simultaneously converting the limb into a blaster and firing at the rock directly above Starscream's position. Gravel and broken shale rained down from the newly-created hole. The noise of the explosion echoed deafeningly out of the hollow and dissipated over the nearby peaks.

Suffice it to say, it had the desired effect.

The other seeker yelled in shock and hurriedly scrambled away, as far as the overhang would allow, shielding his helm under his hands. The squinting, arrogant smirk completely vanished from his face. It was replaced by an open-mouthed stare.

Ersatz rose to his feet and stalked closer, wings flared to their full span.

"Get over yourself for two nanokliks, and _listen_. There is a lot about this arrangement that I do _not_ care for. The least of which is that you and I, by default, have so much in common. Merely because I've agreed to heed your suggestions does not mean I've submitted as your would-be pawn, and will suffer your superfluous blathering whenever you see fit."

He paused to reload the spent blaster, but refrained from aiming it. The sound of an energy pulse cycling into the chamber alone earned him a nervous blink.

"So, unless you truly do desire a premature end to our partnership, I suggest you take _extreme_ care in choosing what the next words out of your mouth will be."

The response given was anything but careful.

"...You're bluffing."

"Come again?"

A shadow of the smirk reappeared. "You wouldn't kill me. Megatron wouldn't take so favorably to it."

Ersatz scowled, optics narrowing, and brought the deployed weapon to bear.

"I never said you need _die_."

Baited quiet descended once more. Wind whistled softly along the bare mountainside. In the distance, some native animal gave an indifferent cry.

Finally, Starscream glanced aside, and slowly rose from his defensive crouch. "Fair point. I... suppose I could agree to treating you as being more competent than the others may think you are."

The glare lessened. "You suppose?"

"As a favor," the older seeker huffed as though it were obvious. "It'd take some effort on my part to accommodate your request."

Ersatz converted the blaster back into an arm, hands dropping slack at his sides. Suddenly, presenting an imposing threat did not feel like the wisest guise to put on.

"Primus above, Starscream, I'm not asking you to treat me any more or less favorably than before. Just that you lay off the insult throttle. I'm more than aware of what I _am_. As are our compatriots. You need not remind me about it at every turn."

Starscream frowned. "Then, if you claim you're so adamant to prove otherwise, what was all that earlier nonsense about you and your cohort sharing my memories, feelings, and - what was it - an 'insatiable quest for power'?"

The clone made a face, bringing one servo's palm to cover it in exasperation. "Can't we just dismiss it as rhetoric, come and gone? Enough time has passed for me to figure out that whatever sense of ambition I share with you, it's destined to be of another kind."

Starscream's optics narrowed. "Should I be disappointed to hear this?"

Ersatz crossed his arms, wings angled down. "Whatever you feel, that's on you. I am who I am, you are who you are. However we come into being, we each develop in our own way."

On that note, the other flier didn't have much to say. With a final suspecting glance he returned to the console, absently brushing fallen rock and grit from its panels.

Ersatz chuckled thoughtfully to himself as another less-than-ideal scenario crossed his mind. "Well. Can you imagine if the _other_ clones had been spared, too? What endless, roundabout discussions we could have found ourselves in?"

To that, Starscream scoffed disbelievingly. "Yes. Remind me to thank Megatron for saving me the trouble next time we speak."

"It could be worse, is what I'm saying. Just think, if having one person of like-mind is enough to drive you to this kind of banter, what would five have done?"

"Consult your memory files, Ersatz. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd had to put up with such idiocy."

Tempting as it was, the younger flier refrained. He tilted his helm to one side. "Idiocy - would that be another unflattering trait seekers are known for?"

"Depending on who you ask."

"I'm asking you."

Starscream frowned. "Then the answer can wait until your next flight is completed. _Successfully_."

Ersatz checked his chronometer once more. Their argument had served to a waste almost another quartercycle worth of daylight. As it stood, each flight along the range had taken two megacycles. The aim was to make the round trip in half that time.

To simply beat the clock was an unsatisfying goal. Perhaps the feat would be easier to accomplish with the promise of greater reward in mind.

He glared sideways, taking notice of Starscream's now-badgering grin, and frowned.

"Consider how you will word your explanation in the interim, then."

Ersatz leapt from the mountainside, giving in to a brief moment of free fall before shifting forms, and accelerated away.

Mundane as it may have been, such exercises were necessary in the course of grooming an aerial mech for combat. Groundbridging technology could not always be counted upon. In those rare instances, coordinates meant nothing if one did not have the means to physically reach them in a timely fashion.

It would not do to dwell, so he didn't. As he had done in the six previous runs, Ersatz diverted all his available processing power to monitoring his flight systems. He was intent on following the pre-determined course, and finally besting the infernal amount of time one could cover this route.

Next on the list, he adjusted his comm system to block all interfering chatter, filtering out the pesky human signals that plagued every conceivable frequency. The only channel he paid mind to was the encrypted line Soundwave (of all people) had sent via databurst prior to leaving the _Nemesis_.

Not that there had been any cause to access the receiver. The sideband was proving as silent as the mech who had sent it.

Besides a shorter mountain range, Ersatz would have preferred a quieter continent overall, one with less crowded airspace. A brief search of the earthlings' Internet revealed one, the lower hemisphere's mirror opposite of this range, located in what was called South America. Even if these "Andes" were longer than the "Rockies", the thinner density of relative air traffic would have made for an even swap.

Still, certain aspects were proving entertaining. Every crossing of the 50º longitude line, for instance, had incited such animated radio transmissions the seeker-in-training found himself listening with such glee, his field trials were momentarily forgotten.

Evidently, these human beings took the coordination of their aircrafts' at-altitude flights over given territorial borders quite seriously.

_Hmm. Tough choice: finish the run in time and be granted disclosure from Starscream, or another listen-in on the simpering humans trying to determine the identify an unregistered military jet supposedly violating international airspace?_

A blipping message notification on the edge of his neural net interrupted his deliberation. Recognizing the identity of the sender sent a thrum of cold surprise through the fighter jet's heated frame.

Hesitation would be more than frowned upon. So he opened the channel without pause.

"Lord Megatron?"

Said Decepticon leader didn't waste time on niceties. _"Ersatz, what is your status?"_

Somehow, not seeing the tyrant's face made it easier to reply without noticeable nerves. "In flight. Executing another run, sir. Is there a problem?"

_"You might say that. Due south of your present heading lies one of our most recently-unearthed energon deposits. The Autobots seek to drive the assigned mining crews into a retreat. Given the location's proximity to a major metropolis, I'm assuming their reason for doing so is to prevent us from possibly endangering the local sentinents._

_"We require your support to _dissuade_ them."_

Part of him, learned habit, balked at the idea. Another part, restraint, managed to keep his reaction to a minced gasp of alarm. The third asked the first question to come to mind.

"What about - "

_"Belay that, soldier. I've sent a 'bridge for _him_. Focus on the task at hand."_

The fourth part, the once-protoform that was not as yet uninitiated with a true sense of the Autobot/Decepticon conflict, took command.

"Uh, y-yes, sir. Of course. The co-ordinates?"

_"Uploading now. Use surprise to your advantage. They will not see you coming. Remember, your role is that of aerial support. Avoid direct contact unless absolutely necessary. Megatron out."_

The flier's higher-thought processes reactivated with a vengeance, citing all the rapid-fire reasons he should be apprehensive and peeved and downright afraid to be unexpectedly sent into battle. His concentration _was_ lacking, as lethargy continued to take root. His fuel levels might not hold out that long in sustained maneuvers. He had next to no experience in actual combat.

However, Ersatz took confidence in the fact that, rather than dispatch Dreadwing or any number of eradicons, Megatron had contacted _him_. It could just be the opportunity he needed to begin solidifying his worth.

_You said it yourself. This is Megatron. He never does anything without a reason._

Whatever glory there was to be had eclipsed any danger the scenario would present. He could handle it.

"Understood, sir. ETA: ten cycles. Ersatz, out."

It might even be fun.

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** From an actual cliff to a cliffhanger.

*crickets*

...Yeah, I know. Cheap joke.

And a bromance, it is not. Will it get to that point? Eh, we'll see. I don't want this story to come off as too campy.

Shout-out to anonymous reviewer **koi** for their compliments on chapter six. They are much appreciated.

You brought up a good point, too. It would be too predictable to make this some easily-contrived romance story. Any future alludes toward affection, I intend to keep to a minimum. It may not be the best "marketing" strategy in terms of garnering attention and reviews, but I'll leave it to someone else to ply those waters. I'm enjoying writing BITS as it currently stands.


	9. Chapter Eight: Coming In Hot

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Shorter than average chapter is... shorter than average. Apologies if it reads awkwardly. This is my first big attempt at sustained action. As is writing the Autobots.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Eight: Coming In Hot_

* * *

En route to his new objective, Ersatz picked out the first identifiable wrinkle in the plan. Cross-checking the coordinates given, against the site's log found within the Decepticon intel-net, revealed an aspect of the battleground that only a flier could find troubling.

His stated role was to provide aerial support.

How was he supposed to do that _underground_?

The site, a recently-recommissioned mining operation, sat several kliks southeast from the "major metropolis", which was locally known as Phoenix, in the middle of a low desert. Its very location spoke to a second unlikable wrinkle. Was it any coincidence the site was located in one of hottest areas of this continent?

Extended flight, in full afterburn, ate up fuel, produced copious amounts of heat, and sapped one's strength. Ersatz flew as quickly as he dared (which, needless to say, was still quite fast), keeping a wary eye on his internal systems' readouts.

There was one silver lining to the issue of possibly overheating. Temperatures underground tended to drop. It wouldn't be so bad.

On his peripheral the jet took note of the first and only obvious indicator of a mine to come into view. Adjusting course, he saw it: a sizable hole in the ground that, typically, shouldn't have been there. Large, sand-strewn boulders formed a ring around the opening. The central shaft, undoubtedly, where boxed energon would eventually be collected by the _Nemesis_' lift.

He didn't stop to land. The entrance he sought was two miles east. There, according to his topography scanners, was a natural bluff overlooked a small valley. Two openings had been carved out of the ridge's face, access tunnels used in the relocation of overturned rock and soil.

Cresting the bluff, Ersatz banked and made a wide turn. His scanners, with their admittedly-limited range, detected no activity present along the tunnels' outermost reaches. Credits said the Autobots had been groundbridged in, closer to the main shaft.

Wrinkle three: which tunnel contained the intruders?

Logic said to open a comm channel, try to make contact with the Decepticon miners, to notify them of his presence.

That would be so easy, if only he were sure _which_ comlink frequencies worked. Plying the radio waves for the right signal would only waste precious time.

_Just pick one: a tunnel or a frequency._

There wasn't time to weigh the pros and cons of that choice, either. Ersatz gave one exasperated sigh, barrel-rolled to face the hillside, and dove.

Flying along confined spaces was generally not recommended for one's health. But it could be done. And in light of his choices, Ersatz figured he would be better off taking the risk Starscream had known, and survived.

One key difference being the passage wouldn't be collapsing around him as he flew.

Plunging into the larger of the tunnels, his flight systems said their two cents, and then some. Sensor needles lept into the proverbial red. His anti-collision protocols virtually went haywire, cramming his HUD full of warning messages. In the interests of not crashing, focusing on the passage ahead, he ignored every one.

_'Wingtip clearance insufficient'? Not by a lot. There's room enough._

Between all the error messages, his sensors were also picking up sporadic energy surges, indicative of weapons fire.

His radar discerned what his scanners could not. Heat signatures were collected into two distinct groups. The smaller, closer cluster, numbering only four, stood between him and the main shaft.

They came into view around the next bend.

Red. Blue. Yellow. Green.

Even if he did not recognize them, the subroutines that constituted his weapons protocols did. Without thinking, he primed the launch rack beneath one wing.

This move would prove stupid, maybe. But that was no reason to disregard the potential advantage it would afford.

_As everyone is so keen on telling me._

The Autobots were far from wholly caught up in their gun battle. They recognized the echoing roar of a jet engine on approach. From _behind_ their position.

The missile ignited and streaked ahead as two of their team, the yellow and the blue, wheeled to fire upon the new threat.

Ersatz thought to turn aside a moment too late. One stray plasma bolt collided with his opposite wing. Belatedly, he veered off, over-correcting to a point beyond his control. More shots found their marks. Ricocheting violently off the tunnel wall sent him skewing sideways, into a dizzying, uncontrolled roll.

Simultaneously, the fired missile found its target in the dirt just short of the tunnel's entrance.

Somewhere through the ensuing explosion, his neural net thought it smart to shift from vehicle to bipedal form. His dermal sensors registered the sting of flying pebbles and sand. His optics came online only to be clouded by flame and black, roiling smoke. Even through the haze his audios could detect a deafening cacophony of shouts and screams.

Finally, gravity reclaimed him. He fell with a joint-jarring crash, flat on his front, and slid to a rattling stop.

His stunned processor rebooted a few short cycles later. Face in the dirt, the downed seeker's intakes fired, forcing a painful cough to clear his airways.

Secondly, he felt the minute tremors of many approaching footsteps. His half-functioning audios picked up the charging of many weapon capacitors. His nerve relays were slower to convey appropriate commands to his limbs, to rise before any more damage befell him.

"Idiots, hold your fire! He's one of ours!"

_Frag._

He knew that voice.

His optic shutters opened in time to see an angled pede hit the dirt beside his face. A second later, he felt the grip of another's claws latch onto his shoulder and pull him upward.

"I don't believe it. You... Would a little _warning_ have been too much to ask for?"

Starscream.

No great mystery as to why _he_ would be here.

Coming to his senses, Ersatz stumbled in regaining his feet, slapping the other's servo away out of blind reaction. "And take the chance the Autobots were monitoring our open frequencies?"

He paused to behold his handiwork. Where a tunnel's mouth had been, a veritable blockade of dirt and fallen rock took its place, and the younger seeker could not contain a small grin of satisfaction.

"I improvised."

"'Improvised'?"

"You 'improvised' at the cost of potentially compromising the structural integrity of the mine!"

The grin faltered.

The exclamation came not from Starscream, but from a miner. Symbols engraved into the smaller mech's shoulder panels identified him as the team's foreman. Expressionless as his chromed face was, the brightened optical lines and barely-contained trembling of his frame said all about his outrage.

"Are you mad? Starscream, _that_ is your so-called replacement?"

_Until further notice._ Ersatz scoffed quietly, taking a moment to inspect his now missile-less arm.

Starscream glared sideways at him. Whether it was an expression born of annoyance at his student's erstwhile conduct, or at the miner's insult, that could not be said.

"Whoever he is, he's bought you and your crew more time. I suggest you make use of it."

"Explain that to me, would you?" Ersatz asked, as they were left in relative peace. "Never mind my... grand entrance. Why are we needed here?"

"What do you think? To provide defense until the miners are ready for extraction. _Your_ job was to stay topside and fend off any assistance the Autobots might have called in."

"Well, Megatron failed to mention _that_," Ersatz growled, wincing as he finally felt the still-simmering plasma burns along the surfaces of his wings. "What's the _Nemesis_' ETA?"

He glanced around. Eradicons were also present. Twelve equaled a whole squad. Most took advantage of the lull, cycling their weapons and performing field repairs on one another. A few continued to stare mutely at the peculiar sight of two near-identical seekers in their midst.

Starscream scoffed, absently wiping dust from his plating. "It isn't, not in physical form or via a 'bridge, so long as the Autobots are still _here_."

"Still here," Ersatz repeated, disbelieving, and straightened his back. "They're still here, stuck behind several layers of rock! Whatever retaliation they may offer will be slow in coming."

One poignant, muffled _thud_ shattered his point if not the wall it had actually struck against.

Starscream's expression of repugnance was shiftly replaced by one of leeriness. He stepped a few paces back. "Not slow enough."

A second _thud_ reverberated through the stone around them.

The eradicon squad immediately trained their blasters on the closed tunnel.

The miners, strewn about the cavern, some standing upon the circular tiers overhead, all cast a nervous look to the pile of fallen boulders.

Ersatz frowned, looking round at the slowing activity around him.

Starscream cottoned onto the clone's implication an instant later, and barked accordingly. "What are you all staring at? Back to work!"

"They can't concentrate so well in the middle of a firefight, Starscream."

"So I have noticed, _Ersatz_. In keeping with your new found brilliance, what would you _suggest_ we do about it?"

The younger seeker glanced at the closed tunnel, thinking. He still had another missile to spare. "I could circle around, take another shot. Give them a _real_ reason to return to their base."

"And possibly compromise your identity in the process?"

"Either that, or stand here and wait for them to dig through and seize the mine, almost certainly revealing my existence in the process? We both can guess as to what Megatron might think of those odds."

Though he scowled in obvious disagreement, Starscream had to concede that point. Losing the mine versus one soldier's life, the energon mine would be their leader's greater concern. Begrudgingly, he stepped back.

"Don't miss."

"In the event I do, feel free to send the eradicons after me."

Ersatz shifted forms and took off without a backwards look.

The flight along the secondary tunnel, out into the Arizona desert, and back down the first tunnel, went smoothly enough. Again, he felt confidence in navigating along the now semi-collapsed passage.

Unfortunately, the Autobots were not fooled a second time, and heard the jet coming. Their greeting amounted to a thick, rapid-fire volley of plasma shots. Most of which found their way to his fuselage and wings.

_Scrap. Starscream's going to have plenty to say about this._

The clone-turned-decoy crashed for the second time in less than a megacycle. But again, he remained intact, save for another deeper set of scrapes and dents.

Still, somehow, his second launched missile found its target. As he clawed his way back to consciousness, Ersatz heard another bot's pained moans. Bumblebee's, judging by the warbling, electronic tones, and somewhere close, if the hollow echoes weren't misleading.

Mission accomplished. He was banking on the fact the Autobots would remain predictable. With one of their teammates injured, they would retreat.

Inwardly cursing his aching components, the seeker moved to drag himself away.

Only to stop dead as a new voice spoke from somewhere above and to his right.

"Well, look what we have here."

Ersatz's spark sank. _Retreat __**before**__ they came across me._

As he looked up the clone saw not one, but two familiar faces looming over him.

Bulkhead. Arcee.

Both of whom he himself had never actually met until now.

Both of which kept their guns trained on him.

"Starscream. I might've guessed."

Ersatz frowned.

They mistook him for his creator. No shocker there.

To go along with it would be easier than convincing them he was another mech entirely.

Had he done so, who was to assume they would have even believed him?

"You guessed? Was it that obvious, Arcee?" Unimpressed, Ersatz rose onto one elbow and wiped at the blood flowing from his split lower lip.

"You've never been one for subtle."

"I suppose that to be true," the flier smirked ironically. "As my superiors keep reminding me."

Bulkhead glowered, unamused. "Who would that be? Did Megatron grant you a T-Cog replacement so you could go back to taking cheap shots at us?"

"No more cheap than your team's assaulting one of these mines is, unprovoked," Ersatz countered, climbing to his feet, keeping the nearest wall at his back. The Autobots' weapons followed his every move. "A mine that's been here for some time already, no less. No sooner then it is re-opened you Autobots decide its too close for comfort to a human settlement?"

"Anywhere the Decepticons open a mine is too close to human kind."

He scoffed, straightening to his full height. "Huh, don't we know it? You can barely take a step on this mudball without flattening one of the vermin."

Arcee stepped forward, one blaster raised, her visage stony and resolute. "Raise your hands."

_What's the expression, "dé-jà vu"?_

Ersatz looked past the glowing weapon, squarely holding her glare with one of his own.

_Notice anything different?_

Surely the blue femme would remember what kind of scar her arm blade had left on Starscream's face, and realize his did not match. It was worth dropping the ruse for a brief moment if it meant creating a window to escape through.

A flash of swirling green abruptly lit the cavern. Then a distinguished, booming voice called through the drifting dust. "Arcee, Bulkhead!"

Smirking, the in-training seeker took that as his needed distraction.

"'Til next we meet, then."

And lept aside, folding back into fighter jet form.

Stray plasma bolts dogged his wake. By the time they struck rock, the groundbridge portal had closed, teleporting its intended passengers away.

Ersatz flew for the tunnel's remaining exit.

There were certainly worse ways to make a first impression on one's intended foes than that.

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Apparently, once Ersatz commits to a fight, he really throws himself into it. Like recklessness is the trade off he makes for courage.

He'll learn his lesson soon enough.

Also worth noting is this chapter went through two re-writes. I wouldn't be surprised if readers find it out of tonal balance with the ones before and after. But I tried to keep it as consistent as possible.


	10. Chapter Nine: Test Results

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Dialogue galore.

This was originally to be chapter eight, but was pushed back in the interests of adding some present-tense action. Doing so actually provided more for me to write in this given installment. Not a lot. But enough.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Nine: Test Results  
_

* * *

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Starscream paced. Or he did the next best one could do to within such a confined space. If there was anything positive to say about the noise, the steeped rhythm of his pedes against the floor underscored his long-winded ranting quite appropriately.

"That is what happens when you don't stop to consider every available option. No, instead, you go ahead and practically shoot _yourself_ down. Twice! Outnumbered. Outgunned. It was as asinine a decision as it is naive. What were you _thinking_?"

"Perhaps he wasn't?"

"When I want your opinion, I'll _ask_ for it, Knock Out."

"You'll hear it regardless, as long as you insist on using _my_ medbay as your sounding board."

Seated on the side of the medbay's lowered berth, Ersatz scowled and clamped his optics shut. However, he refrained from placing servos over both his audial receptors. It would have been too obvious an indicator of his unwillingness to listen.

_Treating first-degree plasma burns should not take __**this**__ long._

Applying a simple mesh-patch over the excoriated areas prevented further plating damage or infection. Beyond that, one's own nanites would heal the rest.

It was only because the attending medic saw fit to follow up every last one of Starscream's derogatory comments had the appointment run on longer than any one of them could have predicted.

The younger flier had some guesses as to why that was the case. But for the moment, he was keeping such wayward thoughts to a minimum. There would be greater demons to face here than Starscream's outrage.

One in particular, whose designation began with M.

"I'm just wondering, why all the fussiness, _Kommandant_? It's not as though he acted under your direct orders."

Ersatz frowned, eyebrows drawing together.

_Don't you know this mech? He says what he feels like saying. Fair to say he likes to hear himself talk._

"Ha!" The exclamation said all of what Starscream apparently thought of the medic's query. "His orders were his own. With end results like this, he may as well have."

"Hm. Sounds to me like you're giving yourself too much blame and/or credit," Knock Out remarked, with a smile that appeared caught amusement and sympathy. "Spare some for the neophyte. Just because he's under your tutelage - "

"Is irrelevant, and makes any decisions acted on to be my own."

Ersatz glared over his shoulder at other two mechs, momentarily silenced as they were by his deadpan declaration.

Underling. Clone. Neophyte.

They could use what labels they desired in private, among themselves. He would not stand hearing them to his face.

"He's not my keeper, no more than I am a dilettante. I complied with Megatron's orders because I knew better not to, and thought it to be a mission within my abilities to carry out. I performed accordingly. And, in the end, the Autobots _left_. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It's never so simple, Ersatz."

This was met with a dirty look. "You only say as much because you never knew when to leave well enough alone."

"No more than you know when discretion to be a smarter alternative than valor."

"...It's a work in progress."

"And my concerns don't pertain to just you. I double-checked: that site had been deserted for at least six lunar cycles, completely stripped, before those miners were re-assigned to it."

Ersatz gave a sighing growl of resignation, immediately wishing he hadn't chosen to speak. But the damage was done. Besides, the sooner Starscream had an explanation, the sooner he might shut up.

He pressed his knuckles against his helm, trying to concentrate past the most-recent ache taking root there and gather his increasingly-spacey thoughts.

"Perhaps... it _wasn't_ mined to the fullest extent the first time through? A scouting prospector might have come across a new vein of energon from an undiscovered deposit close to that of the mine's original source. Such things have happened before."

"Too coincidental."

"You're being paranoid."

"I prefer to think of it as looking out for my interests, which - for the time being - happen to be one in the same as yours."

"Is that right?" The younger seeker's optic shutters opened to bare slits. "You would only say so, with a real sense of concern, for reasons that go beyond _my_ general health and well-being, I'm sure."

"Now who sounds paranoid?"

Ersatz scowled, his mood souring further, wings angling down to match his visage. "Keep your distance, Doctor. It's contagious."

Starscream rolled his eyes. "Save your witticisms for company who may appreciate them."

Knock Out smiled, seemingly unperturbed by the seekers' tit-for-tat banter. "At the moment, gentlemen, it's all the same to me. That includes how readily it is you've come to rejoin the faction, and under what terms, _Herr Kommandant_."

"That's none of your concern."

"Now, where have I heard that before?"

Ersatz bristled as he felt the medic's servo grip his left wing once again, and resisted the impulse to pull away. "I'd have to agree with him, Doctor. It's better for all concerned if you leave the matter alone."

_Can't have too many servos on the tiller._

"Better? I'm sure there's something I could offer. Why so exclusionary?"

"The whole ship already knows, if not every other Decepticon detachment within communications range of this planet. I sincerely doubt there are many among them who think very positively of the arrangement at this stage. I don't think you'd want your name to be exposed to the same tarnish."

"Let me decide what I'll expose my name to." Undaunted, Knock Out applied another patch over the last of his patient's burns. "I don't see how cutting me in could make things any worse. Have I ever done either of you a wrong?"

Starscream's harried pacing finally came to a stop. "No more than you ever did _me_ any notable rights."

"It's not that," Ersatz interjected, warily.

"Then, what?"

He stood, and, upon hearing no objection, explained, "Given how eagerly it is you seem to wish to participate, I can't help but wonder why. I was under the impression that you greatly valued your free time. How can you so readily think to give that up?"

"Curiosity that typically does not outweigh the pleasures of my extra-curricular hobbies. Histories aside, Ersatz, you could provide me with an excellent opportunity for conducting a long-term study of protoforms formatted via binary bonding. That's a scenario that doesn't come along very often. The contemporary literature associated with the topic would benefit enormously."

"As would your reputation," Starscream added, in a tone low and dark.

"Purely a fringe benefit, I assure you."

Ersatz, to the contrary, took a slow, deep breath and stared at the floor, not trusting his vocalizer enough to not speak grossly out of turn. His wings pressed flat against his back, though his expression remained taut with suspicion. He crossed his arms together to keep from lashing out on principle.

"No. I will not degrade myself so far as to become your pet project."

"No need to be stubborn. I'm not asking for as much as you think. A test here, a sample there. Enough to ascertain that you aren't going to spontaneously combust or keel over. Besides, at the current rate it is you seem to be requiring medical attention, I don't think it'd be much of a sacrifice for you to make."

Ersatz averted his gaze. _Given all the sacrifices I will make or have made - my loyalties, my identity, my freedom - you don't know what you're asking._

Starscream scoffed, dismissive, and folded his arms. "You're assuming there's something to watch out for, Knock Out. Cloning is, for all intents and purposes, a reliable science, and it was perfected long before the exodus of Cybertron. Even one with a modicum of understanding such as I can grasp it."

"Yes, you can, and clearly did, but did _you_ think to stop and consider every variable _before_ throwing the switch?" Knock Out lectured. His voice turned almost grim. "The least of which being your genetic health?"

Any shock that ensued was short lived. A moment later, Ersatz felt the older seeker's smoldering glare draw a bead on his back. "That he and the other copies possessed a T-Cog I lack would demonstrate my genetic coding is sound enough."

"I was speaking with regard to impurities, _Kommandant_. Cloning was originally developed as a timely alternative means of circumventing the usual methods when it came to replenishing the ranks."

"I'm aware of that."

"Then you should also be aware that, in those cases, the genetic donors were always of relatively young, uncontaminated stock. Not one subject was ever copied whose spark energy contained residual traces of Dark Energon. With that alone, your profile far from meets the accepted standard."

Silence.

Followed by: "So... what would this mean?"

"What I'm trying to say - Ersatz's case is idiosyncratic, without par. There's no telling how the replication process might have integrated such chemicals into his CNA."

"For all you know, they were expunged."

"Best case scenario. Or they are recessive, with no telling what may reverse the settings. He's taking a risk without continued monitoring."

The once-clone gritted his denta, inwardly cringing at the implications. _My very existence has been nothing but a risk. How is that anything new? Just one more thing to preoccupy my thoughts._

Who was to say the medic was even being honest?

"I've heard enough," Ersatz snapped, and strode for the exit. That the door was probably locked did not dissuade him. He doubted it could withstand a simple override, or a blaster shot to its control panel.

Starscream stood idle, feigning an interest in the state of his claws. "This try at manipulation, however creative, doesn't appear to have convinced anyone here, Doctor."

"It's not manipulation, it's due process," Knock Out asserted sternly. "And Lord Megatron ordered me to disclose as much to you."

The door's proximity sensor chimed and opened with a poignant snap.

Ersatz stopped short of crossing the threshold, glancing back. Bland understanding set in.

_So, that's it._

Starscream smirked humorlessly, and was not so reticent. "Did he, now?"

"If either of you have the bearings for such conversation, you're welcome to bring it up with him. Even had he not, you might as well know. I don't relish the idea I'm presently sharing space with a ticking time-bomb."

"Oh, good. Now I'll know what you're thinking whenever you look at me cross-eyed."

Ersatz flinched, not expecting the medic to grasp him by the arm so suddenly. "I'm serious, Ersatz. If something were to happen, Megatron wouldn't forgive the fact that you refused treatment that might have prevented it. He would deliver due punishment to all involved. Whatever his plans are, I doubt you want this coming back to haunt you."

Bemused, Starscream raised a curled servo to the side of his helm. "Are my audios malfunctioning, or did I hear something sounding like concern?"

Frowning, the sports car stepped back, hands dropping to his sides. "Making up for your lack of it, I would say."

Ersatz scoffed. _There's another expression that comes to my mind: covering one's aft._

"Starscream, aren't you the least bit interested as to how this could reflect upon your standing?"

"Until I know what _it_ could be, no, Doctor, I'm not. I don't really find it a worthwhile use of my time to dwell on things beyond my control."

"I might say it would be. Forget the binary link. He's your apprentice. That makes him, technically, your responsibility."

Ersatz's shoulders tensed. "I am not."

"Huh, sure," Knock Out rolled his optics, unconvinced. "Whatever helps you recharge at night."

Worse yet, Starscream appeared to be seriously considering the medic's stated point. He regarded the younger seeker with a quieter, thoughtful stare.

"Megatron would see it that way, wouldn't he?"

"You're assuming he would, again," Ersatz ground out, claws curling.

The almost-soft look hardened. "Based on millenia worth of actually _knowing_ him, I'm fairly sure of it."

Knock Out shrugged. "Therein lies the mutual favor we have to gain, were Ersatz to agree to this: a lead. For now, my collective data is inconclusive. As far as we don't know, the worst outcome that could happen is just as likely as the best. Wouldn't you rather have some idea of what the balance is before making up your mind?"

"Not if it means subjecting myself to any more indignities than I have already had to," Ersatz loosely crossed his arms, feeling as uncomfortable as it was to verbally admit his anxiety. "While I've given up in every other right in favor of security, on this, I'd rather take my chances."

"That decision could prove more costly than you think."

"Then it would be more my problem than yours."

Starscream scoffed in blatant disbelief. "By the AllSpark, I never knew myself to ever be _that_ woefully fatalistic."

"Indeed? You thought it not in your nature?"

"At one point, perhaps. A remnant trait that would not have done me many favors in this life were I still especially partial to it. Were I, I get the impression I would have perished a long time ago."

_So, what is he implying? My adopted mindset will eventually be the death of me?_

_That's what **he** thinks.  
_

Between that and being dressed down over his conduct at the mine, it didn't say much for the former SIC's confidence in his reluctant student.

"Speaking of perishing," Knock Out interrupted, raising one finely-pointed digit. "I was also ordered to instruct you both to proceed to the bridge, once Ersatz's injuries were treated. Though I'd like to continue arguing my case, I think it best you don't keep our Lord and Master waiting much longer."

"Yes, let's not."

Already at a point well beyond impatience, Ersatz took his leave without further elaboration. That was all the cue for dismissal he needed.

Belatedly, he took note of the footfalls that followed, and tried not to feel further unnerved as to how the footsteps so closely matched his own.

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** As this was written _before_ the previous chapter (the content of which was originally meant to be described in the past tense), it went through some extensive revising. I have my doubts as to whether the tone has remained consistent.


	11. Chapter Ten: Lesson Three

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Another short chapter.

Minor fluctuations in the story's word count can be attributed to my going back to correct grammar, punctuation, and spelling errors in previous chapters.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Ten: Lesson Three_

* * *

The debriefing in question did indeed take place upon the _Nemesis_' bridge.

At first, Ersatz acknowledged very little, if any, of it. His sour mood abated. Let them say what they wanted. He had used much of the remainder of his strength merely to walk the distance from the sickbay, unaided. Whatever was left of the younger seeker's energy, he was presently using to stay standing, ignore the faint ringing in his ears, and listen.

To say he felt tired now was a severe understatement. Borderline exhausted was closer to the truth.

The pain inhibitors administered in the treatment of his newest set of wounds, only momentarily stimulating, had quickly dissipated and worn off. That, combined with the brutal demands of the past solar cycle, left his energy reserves waning, leaving him feeling utterly sore and spent.

Exhausted going on numb, then. Not even the inward distress of holding an audience with a wrathful Megatron could garner his focus.

At least, not until those concerns became a painful reality, when said tyrant's hand smacked him across the face. And, later, he would decided it was not an unreasonable means of getting his attention.

"Soldier, stand at attention."

Ersatz blinked and shook his head, dumbfounded. His body had reacted without thinking, breaking his stumbling fall with one hand. Had there really been enough force behind that hit to cause him to take a knee?

Somewhere to his right, he heard Starscream's scornful laugh. "You see? I told you he was close to shutting down."

Taking late notice of the broad figure standing before him, Ersatz glanced up.

Predictably, Megatron's expression was anything but understanding or amused. Unpredictably, nor was it one of disappointment or affront.

Instead, he regarded the flagging seeker with a frowning, perplexed, one-eyed squint. "Is this... normal?"

Ersatz blinked again, trying in vain to make sense of the words. What were they referring to?

"Who's to say? Given his all exertions today, perhaps. But only a short time ago he was acting completely coherent."

"Ersatz."

His lagging processor finally registered what those two syllables were. Ersatz shook his helm and harshly rubbed at his eyes, grasping for whatever resembled concentration. The retinal lenses reset with an audible snap, bringing his fuzzy surroundings back into focus.

Lastly, he shakily regained his footing. "Yes, sir?"

"What is your status?"

Quietly worded as it was, like a rumble of distant thunder, Ersatz gave an involuntary flinch. Megatron would not ask the same question of the same mech twice, not without having cause.

"Uh, o-operational, sir."

"Specify."

Ersatz paused, running a self-check diagnostic. A moment later, the results scrawled over his glitching HUD. "All systems functional. Raw fuel levels at twenty-three percent. Processing rate... less than optimum."

"Your wounds, then," Megatron stated matter-of-factly. "How severe are they?"

He didn't protest as one massive hand roughly grasped his collar and turned him to the side, presumably to be inspected. The burns on his wings constituted the worst of it. The scrapes, several inches deep in some places, were mostly limited to his torso and legs.

Bothersome, but not debilitating.

"N-nominal overall, sir."

The servo released him in the form of a shove. This time, the seeker _did_ wince upon falling to his knees.

The lurking ire finally began to color Megatron's voice. "Then why is your attention so lax?"

_Good question._

"It isn't."

He thought to quash the reflexive denial a nanoklik too late. Struck again, before he could even comprehend the impending hit, he fell with a noticeable _thump_ to the deck.

"Master, that's hardly the most effective way to - "

Ersatz heard the other seeker's yelp as a sharp twinge rippled across the dermal sensors in his cheek. He pressed his closed mouth to the floor, effectively muffling any utterance of pain.

"Silence, Starscream. You know this lesson well enough. But I suppose I must repeat it for your progeny's _edification_."

_Lesson? Another one?_

Ersatz cringed, feeling strong digits clamp over the back of his neck.

"On your feet."

Lifted from the deck, he snapped back awares, staggering though he was gently set down on his pedes. Still, he failed to contain the nervous shivers that suddenly gripped his limbs.

"Ersatz, let me be forward. Given your recent conduct in the field, would expecting you to attend a proper debriefing, once of sound body _and_ mind, be too much to ask?"

_What? He's chiding me for... not taking the time to recuperate?_

Admittedly, he had been keeping a closed-off stance since returning to the ship. The dismissive or monish behavior of those around him seemed to call for it. And even if it didn't, how worse off was he?

Faced with being confronted by the Decepticon leader, he couldn't afford as much alienation, tired or no.

The clone hesitated only long enough to clear static from his vocalizer. "Ahem. Sir, I-I was told that you wished to speak on the matter as soon as possible."

"As soon as you were _decently_ able to," Megatron lectured. "What point is there in me holding conference with one who can hardly stand, let alone think clearly?"

Ersatz's wings drooped tiredly against his back, despite his best efforts to hold them upright. "...There isn't. Sir."

"Nor is there any point in my rendering a verdict on your latent actions based only upon the accounts of bystanders. It would be imprudent for you not to speak your piece."

_On what? Practically breaking rank at the Arizona mine, or refusing more tests to verify my molecular health?_

Neither felt like a particularly safe topic to address at that moment in time.

Starscream saved him the trouble of responding. Temporarily.

"That's awfully considerate of you, Megatron. Almost... uncharacteristic, even."

Ersatz tensed, waiting for the retaliatory blow.

To both fliers' bewilderment, it didn't come.

"Dreadwing, would you and our 'adviser' excuse yourselves for a moment?"

"...Yes, Lord Megatron."

Puzzled, Ersatz looked up to see the blue-and-gold mech grasp Starscream by the arm and 'escort' him out (despite the smaller flier's spluttering protests).

Dreadwing? Had he been standing there all along?

Were he of keener focus, Ersatz probably would have protested the removal. But at the moment he could not fathom how he might form a convincing argument. His CPU refused to offer anything intelligible.

Knowing that, he looked slowly around the expanse that was the _Nemesis_' bridge deck, finally taking stock of whom was present. For a room that could accommodate upwards of fifty visitors, the company left was rather minimal.

In fact, only one other remained. Soundwave stood at the forewardmost terminal, typing, his back to the door.

"As I was saying, there is nothing to gain by questioning one who can afford to make themselves presentable, but does not for fear of mere criticism."

Carefully weighing his response, Ersatz kept his voice low and apologetic. "Sir, again, it was my understanding, by Lieutenant Knock Out's word, that you were expecting a timely post-action report."

"We both know that isn't true, Ersatz."

"Sir?"

"Don't play daft. You only sought to attend this debrief out a sense of duty, rather than practicality. Because you have other matters on your mind, isn't that true?"

He shuddered.

_I confirm it, he'll demand to know more._

_I deny it, he'll just strike me to the floor again._

As inviting as stasis looked, for the recharge it would offer, Ersatz didn't feel like suffering any more injuries than he had collected already. There were enough half-mended and still-sensitive dents and scratches across his frame as it stood.

"...Yes."

"And I don't think I'm mistaken in presuming the matter in question would be your health."

That was it. Time to defend his choice. Whether he liked it or not.

"Sir, I... I don't see why. Cloning is a reliable science. Impurities in the replication process have never been known to cause significantly unexpected results. If there were any short-term consequences in my case, surely I would have exhibited clear symptoms, of _some_ kind, by now. It makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense, in its own way. You've attended _this_ meeting because you've found it the lesser challenge. For it is a fear you can confront. As opposed to testing and taking samples and waiting on results, when all one can do is hope for the best."

The clone said nothing. Not that he had to. The slight, full-body tremble spoke for him, even if what he felt was a confusing mix of relief and consternation.

"I see you also didn't expect my opinion on the subject to be so benevolent."

"No, sir."

"What did you expect?"

"That... that you would compel me to submit."

"Exactly. And were it warranted, I would not hesitate."

Slowly, reluctantly, Ersatz met his leader's surprisingly-neutral gaze. "You're saying it's... not necessary, My Lord?"

Megatron turned away, servos folding together behind his back. His tone remained the definition of civility. "I feel it isn't, not at this juncture. I have reviewed what evidence Knock Out has already gathered, and it doesn't concern me, for better or worse. However many tests and procedures he may think are worth trying, I don't see how this possible 'condition' will hinder your training's progress."

He glanced back over one jagged shoulder. "If anything, it may aid in precipitating it."

Ersatz frowned.

_Of course he'd say that. This comes from someone who is, last I 'knew', infused with Dark Energon, while so much palaver is being made of the watered-down residue that may or may not be bonded to my CNA._

_But at least it keeps him from outright slandering me._

The forward view screens dissolved from opaque to transparent, flooding the bridge with light. Outside, a flowing, picturesque view of deep blue midday ocean, several hundred feet below the warship's racing bow, stretched off into the horizon.

Startled, Ersatz winced against the sunlight's brilliance, shutting both optics tightly.

"In other matters, then, your adviser tells me while you performed _heroically_ at the mine, and succeeded in driving the Autobots into a retreat, how you went about said endeavor was needlessly brash."

Optical covers opened the barest fraction.

_Starscream, on the other servo..._

Ersatz clenched his hands, feeling a faint sense of indignation weave around and through his fogged-in processor. "He only says as much because never in a million vorns would he have done it himself."

Megatron sighed tolerantly. "No. He would have. The difference being that he would wait a moment too long to take the offensive. Whereas you didn't."

A part of him, pride, preened accordingly, and preemptively thought to take the remark as a compliment.

Another cautioned he not move to brag so quickly.

"Our views in regard to timing seem to differ."

"Among others."

_If I had a credit for every time I have recently heard that..._

Ersatz glanced aside. "Yes, sir."

"Would one of those 'others' be initiative?"

Misfiring nerves abruptly stilled. "Sir?"

"I said, you were to provide aerial support, and only engage the Autobots if necessary."

_But you also said they would not anticipate me being there. Shouldn't I have taken that to mean you thought I would __**have**__ to engage them?_

But true to imparted form, the clone folded visibly under the larger mech's glaring, scarlet optics. "Y-yes, you did."

"However, you saw fit to take the risk of strafing their position, from _within_ the mine, and nearly disable yourself in the process? Why is that?"

"Sir, I - " Ersatz stopped short, eyes widening, as Megatron turned to face him.

Automatically, knowing there was no threat presently behind him, the seeker took several nervous steps backwards.

Megatron negated them in one stride, reaching out to grasp the flier by the arm and pull him forward.

Backlit, his faceplates seemed even darker, his optics burning an even brighter shade of crimson. The growl returned to his voice. "You will stand your ground when you speak."

Ersatz nodded mutely, rendered temporarily silent. The nervous shivering also returned in full force.

"Now, explain yourself."

"Sir, I... have no explanation. Or I-I merely thought I could provide our forces an advantage. You said when we first... met you were short an aerial asset."

Megatron scowled. "I also suggested you forget all it was you thought you knew, in the interests of keeping good standing."

_...He did say that, didn't he?_

"There's no point in humoring your presence here if you cannot take simple direction without liberal interpretation, Ersatz. You'll never become a dependable asset if you continue with such a mindset.

"Ergo, lesson three: you are to _follow_ an order as it is given, no more, no less, regardless of how you may think of it. In disobeying, you failed to announce your presence to your comrades. Your actions resulted in needless confusion and disarray on the battlefield."

He reached for the first response to come forth, regardless of how proper it wasn't.

"I assumed you had - "

"And do not waste time assuming what _I_ have or have not done. Your only prerogative should be to obey commands as they fall to you, no matter who issues them. Is that understood?"

Another number of possible replies flitted through his overtaxed mind. He chose the most flattering, untrue as it might have felt to say, and bowed.

"Perfectly, sir. Do forgive my insolence. None of it was meant to incite such bedlam, much less interfere with your plans, and I hope you do not think ill of me for it."

The tyrant's growl turned into a menacing rumble. "Then see to it that your lapse in judgement will not happen twice."

Ersatz shuddered, but managed to quash the urge to backpedal.

The implication was clear.

_Because, in the event it does, I will not be giving you a __**third**__ chance._

"I understand, sir."

Slowly, the tension ebbed away.

"I was also told, following arrival on the scene, you took the offensive?"

Ersatz glanced down, abashed.

"I did."

"And encountered the Autobots in doing so. How did they receive you?"

"They... mistook me for Starscream."

"Unerringly?"

"That was the impression I believe I made. At least, between the two whom I had the pleasure of meeting face to face," Ersatz admitted. "I didn't think twice of convincing them otherwise."

"As I thought," Megatron mused. "I considered it possible prior to contacting you with the mine's coordinates. Your antics, foolhardy as they proved to be, did result in victory. But I wonder at the potential consequences of leading our foes to believe Starscream has rejoined the Decepticons."

Ersatz frowned, arms and wings hanging limp at his sides. He clamped his eyes shut to stave off acknowledging any ensuing glances.

_That makes two of us. But I'll wonder later when I have the processing power to spare for it._

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Do I sense a hint of micromanagement on Megatron's part here?


	12. Chapter Eleven: Breaking The Mold

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Small time-cut jump. Another shorter than average chapter. Published sooner than anticipated on behalf of my loyal reviewers. You know who you are, and you all rock. :D

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Eleven: Breaking The Mold_

* * *

No less than a megacycle later, Ersatz found himself called into question on a second occasion.

Under even less conducive circumstances.

From the ship's bridge, he had been shown to small, out-of-the-way chamber. While certainly an improvement over the brig, it was not as eloquent as an officer's quarters, but it was not reminiscent of the eradicon barracks, either. It had a berth to lay upon, and that was all he presently cared to note regarding the room's content.

What felt like moment later he was physically yanked out of recharge, to land in a graceless heap on the floor.

By his chronometer, that had been a quartercycle-long nap.

He put up a fuss, late as it was, painful as it wasn't: "Ow."

Something, presumably the intruder's foot, nudged at his unmoving hand.

"Wake up."

Blearily, Ersatz opened his eyes, sighed reflexively, and begrudgingly sat up. There went his first true chance at sleep. He should have expected it not to go peacefully.

"Starscream. What do you have to say that can't wait until I've recharged?"

Said seeker stood over him, glowering, and did not hesitate to grab his understudy by the jaw, forcing his optics to look upward. "Oh, so you have time to entertain hearing everyone else's opinion but mine?"

_Never again will I misinterpret orders. Not if it means having to endure this perennial scrap._

Ignoring the servo's tight grip on his face, Ersatz recalibrated his flickering optics, attempting to focus once more. "I seem to recall a few cycles' worth of me having to listen to you rant and rave over Megatron's supposed trial."

"Had you paid closer attention on the bridge, you would have learned that _was_ indeed the case."

_And the fact that we both emerged relatively unscathed means we passed?_

He would celebrate later. Other desires were more immediate. "And I cannot be permitted to rest until you've shared your thoughts?"

Starscream smirked coldly. "You know how I feel about waiting."

Ersatz frowned, eyebrows lowering to a set line. He pried the other seeker's hand free and scooted aside. "Not funny."

Heedless of the refutation, Starscream took a seat upon the now-vacant berth's edge. The smirk vanished. "Nor is your latent gloominess. Have you thought twice of Knock Out's recommendation?"

He could not help throwing the question back. "Have you?"

"I'd be mistaken not to."

_Wouldn't be the first time._

Rather than let them indulge in a derisive roll, Ersatz closed his eyes. He leaned back against the berth, bracing both pedes on the floor before him, arms folded across his lap. "So, get it over with. Enlighten me."

"Well, to begin, I think your reaction, in some respect, wasn't unreasonable. It's not the kind of news one can easily assimilate. Even less so when the case is without precedent."

Ersatz frowned, perplexed, slowly making sense of the words. The fog of lethargy clouding his processor didn't allow for quick and concise understanding. If there was anything to say about it, it stood as to why Starscream was currently barring him from recharge. Rested and alert, one could defend themselves easier than if their concentration was lacking, so he wasn't taking the chance.

The same tactic Megatron had lectured the clone on and, presumably, exploited in the same breath.

It would be foolish not to inquire further.

"Then in what respect was my response acceptable?"

"Reasonable, not acceptable. There's a distinct difference."

Oh, yes. This was to be a mindfragging session.

Ersatz leaned back, arms crossed, wings spreading flat against the berth's frame. "How can there be a difference?"

"Reasonable, in that, given your efflorescent tendencies, it's no wonder you'd desire to take an apathetic standpoint on at least one issue. I just can't say you made the wisest choice as to which issue was best to turn a blind eye to. That is what I find unacceptable."

He glanced sidelong and up at the older seeker. "So, you're hoping I've already changed my mind?"

The glance was met with a disapproving scowl. "I'm hoping you saw through Megatron's blatant try to mislead you."

_Mislead me?_

Ersatz frowned. "You weren't there. You don't know what we discussed."

"Why would he bother removing me from the proceedings, then?"

_'Why'? How many dozens of answers there must be to that._

"Perhaps to ensure a calmer setting with which to question me? My attention span wasn't, and still isn't, the greatest. At the very least, you'd be something of a distraction."

"At the worst, I'd be a hindrance to whatever deception he's attempting to weave about you."

"And what's your evidential basis for this theory? You said yourself neither of us knows what his overall intent is. It seems preemptive to be taking the defensive this soon."

"There's always another side," Starscream declared purposefully. "Your guilelessness simply doesn't allow for you to recognize it."

Again with the accusations.

_Gullibility being the antonym to leeriness._

Bringing two opposing viewpoints together usually equaled friction.

"Why does it bother you?" Ersatz shot back. "Is it somehow indicative of the idiocy I alluded to earlier?"

"In its own right. Though it doesn't pertain to seeker psychology more than just yours. Like that of a hoodwinked drone who believes because of how he was brought into this situation, life has had its fair share of fun with him, and the rest is to be a easy promenade."

Ersatz winced, reluctantly looking away. "I'll take what solace I can get."

"Well, my advice would be you find comfort elsewhere. Life is anything but fair. Megatron may have spared you and orchestrated this entire arrangement to facilitate your admission to the ranks, but I sincerely doubt he did _all_ of that out of the 'goodness' of his spark."

The name of the source could be ignored. Jaded as his words were, there was an undeniable air of legitimacy to them. Coming from someone who had already _lived_ a considerable amount of time.

"I'll... bear that in mind."

Sensing progress, his interrogator pressed on. "About the mines, then?"

Ersatz scoffed. He laid a splayed hand across his chest plate in mock offense. "Oh, don't despair. He berated me."

_In a way that didn't involve being beaten to within an inch of my life, no less._

"How so?"

"Lesson three: I'm to follow orders as they're given. Don't read into or out of them," the clone recited dryly. "But you already know that one."

Poignant silence answered him. He glanced back in confusion. "What?"

"That's... intriguing. Megatron doesn't make frivolous use of tropes."

"...He doesn't make frivolous use of _anything_."

A flat glare said his adviser didn't share in the humor. Conversational gears shifted accordingly.

"What about refusing further medical trials?"

"Knock Out's worries for his job appear to be unfounded. Megatron's opinion is whatever my condition, it's not worth the hassle to investigate further."

"Not even in a preventative sense?"

Ersatz shrugged. "He didn't strike me as obtuse when he said it."

Starscream's clawtips drummed idly against the berth, his expression thoughtful. "Strange. Even if the impurity were to prove beneficial, I would think he'd at least want to know how."

"It's a problem beyond his control in any case, including mine," Ersatz studied his own claws, dismissive. "You'll be pleased to know I agree with your logic in that regard."

The thoughtfulness in Starscream's expression ebbed away, and the emerging look was not one of pleasure.

Seeing it cancelled out the younger seeker's growing sense of ease. "You're... not pleased?"

"'Pleased' isn't the word I would choose, no. Dark Energon doesn't recognize cavalier changes in one's attitude. It's not something to be trifled with, in any amount. You haven't seen with your own two optics what it can do, nor what it feels like to be possessed by it."

Ersatz frowned. Visions of a barren, rocky canyon, tinted purple with crackling energy, rose before his mind's eye. It was a memory among those he was most fearful of dwelling on.

"I have _something_ of an idea."

Starscream arched a brow. "That's putting it lightly."

The younger seeker smiled humorlessly. "There are select parts of your resumé I'd rather not acknowledge if it can be helped."

"Tch." A noise borne of pure skepticism. "All I'm saying is, if I were you, I wouldn't take the chance. I'd suffer the indignity if it meant one less condemnation to be associated with my name."

"And if it did?" Ersatz challenged.

"Then I would do what I could to mitigate the damage. Not sit around sulking over what I _should_ have done."

Ersatz paused, giving his weary CPU ample time to process what his audio receptors had heard. Slowly, he got to his pedes and stretched, loosening stiffened pistons and cogs.

"...You make a convincing argument."

"Only when the situation calls for it," Starscream commented, gruffly, as though it bothered him to admit having taken some bit of pride in the task. "If you are to eventually make an officer's commission, I'd rather you didn't go offline before your training was complete and utterly nullify all my efforts."

"Meaning my death would leave Megatron no further use for you?"

"You say that like you know better..."

A muttered, unfinished thought. Ersatz pretended not to hear it. He leaned sideways against the wall beside the berth, crossing one ankle over the other. "If it makes _you_ feel better, the opposite scenario would probably be true, too."

_...Why should I care that he feels better about it?_

Starscream remained sitting. "I doubt it. The Air-Army oaf would probably be Megatron's next best choice as to who could train you."

"...Who?"

"Dreadwing."

Ersatz flinched as his creator spat the name like a reviled curse.

_Air-Army?_

The hyphenated adjective felt somehow familiar.

"Really? W-what qualifies him? Besides being a flier, I mean."

The stutter went unnoticed. Starscream's optics lifted and narrowed, glaring at a faraway point beyond the chamber's walls. Probably somewhere in the direction he imagined the new Decepticon SIC to be. "His history as a captain. I took the liberty of researching his public service record."

"A captain in the Air-Army?"

"Are you being this dense on purpose?" the older seeker snapped, impatient. Without waiting for an answer, he explained, "Air-Army. The lesser of the two militant branches which comprised Cybertron's Air Command, in Vos. That specialized in ground _and_ air tactics."

"I see."

"Should I take that to mean it makes sense, or must I dumb-down the lesson even further?"

Though he felt insulted, Ersatz said nothing, merely kept a blank face and leaned away.

Starscream sighed. His drooping, twitchy wings told all as to how aggravated he was. On par with how snippy he presently sounded. Then again, who was to say he wasn't also suffering from fatigue?

"It's what I presently cannot figure out. Dreadwing is a seeker, and his experience as a captain of an army _would_ qualify him to train you. Before and during the war, the training of joint-branch trines and wings was common practice."

"And Dreadwing was captain of an army, as opposed to air commander of a squadron?"

"Right. So, why wasn't he selected? The most likely answer would be that, saved by my timely detainment, Megatron can't spare him, due to more requiring Dreadwing's assistance in far more _significant_ assignments."

"Assignments such as what?"

"Precisely my point. We don't know yet. I'm not much inclined to question further into what affairs I haven't been permitted disclosure on. Not until there's some better idea of what gain there is versus loss."

_Lesson one meets risk versus gain._

"Fair enough," Ersatz said. Absently, he brushed a servo over his chest plate, almost lamenting his still-missing sigil. "I honestly wouldn't have expected them to be any more candid with you than they have me."

"Then I suppose that makes us somewhat even."

Companionable was not the right word to describe the ensuing quiet atmosphere with. More like it was pleasantly devoid of tension.

"So, to merely be a seeker does not make one an apt tutor. Look at it from another angle, then. Availability?"

"Cybertronians are few. Seekers are even fewer."

_Like that answers my question._

"Well, what can you teach me that Dreadwing can't?"

"..."

Ersatz frowned. All right. They had come across a sensitive topic now, one the former SIC clearly found distinctly alarming or uncomfortable. Or both. Unsettling enough to quiet him for a few unbroken intake cycles.

The borrowed memories were still of no help. The cause for such secretiveness evaded him by hiding in plain sight. He saw and heard, but he did not know what the images meant.

"Starscream?"

He blinked sharply, belatedly meeting his student's gaze. "Not to border on repetitive, but for the time being, you're better off not knowing."

The frown became a scowl. Yet another mystery only to be unraveled with continued time and effort. It didn't prevent him from asking: "And when might I achieve that reward?"

"When you're ready."

_Figures._

"All right. Somewhere between now and then, may I have my berth back?"

That smirk again. "You may. When I'm done with it."

Without further ado, Starscream stretched out upon said surface and rolled to one side, his back facing the younger flier.

Ersatz remained leaning against the wall, frowning and dumbfounded.

Then it hit him.

_Of course. Wherever did I get the idea Megatron would set aside __**two**__ separate rooms for us?_

"Hmph. Indeed."

Making no bones about the new arrangement, Ersatz took the corner of the room furthest from the door, settling for lounging against the wall. The same wall was also closer to the chamber's ventilation grate, offering warmer air. It was a bearable inconvenience.

At the moment he was, quite literally, too tired to argue differently.

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Starscream, you lovable jerk, you. I guess he earned rights to the berth by providing us with some more exposition.

*ahem* TFP Dreadwing's background is borrowed from TF Wiki. His biography indicates that he was the captain of an army of seekers. I took what I could from that and wrote my theory as to the Air Command's structure accordingly.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Second Nature

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Part filler, part dialogue.

And we finally have Dreadwing in a true speaking role. Writing him for the first time provided me plenty of elbow room to lengthen this chapter with. Please notify me if he seems OOC.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Twelve: Second Nature_

* * *

Patrol. With the eradicons.

Could there be a duller task in existence?

Dull not for the lack of activity it entailed, but for the lack of a clear objective. What also rendered it tiresome was the about of time spent doing little more than burning fuel. By the end of the first day Ersatz had thoroughly had it with flying aimlessly about this blue marble of a planet.

By the end of day five it was growing near unbearably mundane.

Somehow, it was a necessary evil, as Starscream was gracious enough to explain. Such patrols were meant to help in conditioning one's patience and durability for the sometimes-long bouts of inactivity between encounters with the Autobots. And for those of the aerial classes stationed within the _Nemesis_, this was also considered their needed rest and relaxation time.

Ersatz was not convinced.

No one squad of drones welcomed the in-training seeker's company beyond a formal extent. It was as fine a reception, in his opinion, as it wasn't. Indifference was always preferable over animus. They weathered most runs in relative silence, with the gray fighter jet holding several hundred feet of altitude above and behind five identical, purple-black jets. There was fun to be had in looping around and chasing them about.

But very quickly the drones had made it clear they did not always appreciate the distraction.

A certain lack of detectable Autobot activity made for many long, dreary flights. Across continents, along coastlines, to and from energon mining sites. There was little to watch out for, let alone _do_.

Except take part in mandatory air combat drills. That utilized _live_ rounds. In which Ersatz spent just as much time running _from_ the eradicons he did shadowing them. However, he took immense pleasure in somehow evading most of their shots with almost unbelievable ease.

Other comparable hobbies included hassling the occasional human passenger aircraft for laughs. So long as it did not crash, there was no harm in giving the fleshings a little scare. Clearly, they were not a species meant to take to the air. Their primitive, fossil-fuel-powered aircraft were mere toys by comparison to the even plainest jet-class drone.

With the increasing boredom, each return trip to the _Nemesis_ grew more luxurious than the last. Even Knock Out's once-annoying insistence on recording complete systems readings at the end of every flight, in every imaginable form of scan or sample ("All in the interests of science," he kept saying), became something for Ersatz to look forward to. It was a glorious change of pace from staring at endless blue skies and puffs of white water vapor, cooped up within one's own thoughts.

More and more of which were already feeling like _his_ instead of the read-only file copies borrowed from his creator.

The 'downtime' of the event-less patrols also allowed for Ersatz's array of burns and scrapes to heal, with the exception of the gashes across his brow and cheek plating. For whatever reason, his healing systems were slow to assign nanites to that region and fully repair the furrowed dermal cells.

Puzzling, but it was not a high entry on his list of worries.

In fact, he was glad to have at least one physical characteristic that did not match Starscream's. If the older seeker agreed or thought to protest, he wasn't saying. The horizontal cut on his cheek, inflicted by Arcee, had faded with time, but after how many lunar cycles, it showed no signs of vanishing completely.

Kind of like Ersatz's tolerance among the warship's indigenous population: it had, by contrast, gone any way but smoothly. Reactions to his company were varied, from the lowest servant class maintenance bot, to the highest noncom eradicon warrior. Anything from curious glances to scathing glares to puzzled frowns greeted him at every turn.

He did his best to ignore all of them. It was the only way he could see to maintain the best possible behavior, to respond by not responding. Bots like Soundwave could appreciate such measures. Why not give it a try?

Permitted free run of the vessel, without need of restraints or an armed escort, the clone-turned-student took it upon himself to make worthwhile use of what leisure time he had, and today that meant familiarizing his navigational drives with every nook and cranny of the _Nemesis_.

Only to gather reference. He meant no harm in it. Having a working knowledge of the ship was expected of all its passengers. And, as he had quickly learned, nothing was more frustrating than asking where such-and-such room could be found and receiving nothing but stupefied silence as an answer (and begrudgingly confirming he was not the mech whom he was presumed to be).

Nonetheless, not everyone was destined to appreciate this effort.

Most notably, the new SIC. And he wasn't shy about declaring it.

"Ersatz."

He paused mid-stride, wings hiked in alarm, taking a startled glance over his shoulder.

The voice's owner stood at the opposite end of the empty corridor.

He almost relaxed. Dreadwing, as yet, was proving to be an amicable disposition. Their paths had casually crossed several times already, and he hadn't been unduly harsh in flexing his authority whenever a line was toed. Like Megatron, he was also one of the few individuals who did not regularly mistake Ersatz for Starscream (or vice versa) on a daily basis.

How, who could say?

Still, the mere fact Dreadwing was of a larger, sturdier build, of superior strength and skill, and higher up the chain of command, was reason for apprehension on the smaller flier's part.

"Where are you off to now?"

"Nowhere," Ersatz said automatically, before catching the tail-end of the denial impulse. Belatedly, he about-faced, and tried not to look as sheepish as he felt. For there was nothing to actually be sheepish about. "Uh, I mean, nowhere in particular, sir. Just stretching my legs as best one can when they aren't permitted planetside."

_Or outside the ship without the explicit permission of a certain few mechs, for that matter._

"So I see," Dreadwing replied evenly, striding closer. Like his expression, the former captain's tone brokered no more true hostility than it did affability. "Don't you have studies you should be attending to, then?"

A servo twitched at the mention. Endure mindless patrols, or ever-so-droll lessons that had become tediously archaic just as swiftly. Tough choice.

_Don't you have more pressing affairs to attend to than keeping tabs on me?_

Ersatz let the question sound off in thought, but kept a mindful eye on not letting it turn vocal.

"I would if my... if Starscream were not otherwise occupied. I returned to our quarters a megacycle ago. There were several battle logs we were to meant to review, but instead he shooed me out and insisted he was not to be disturbed."

_And I was happy to leave it at that. No reason to prolong or encourage any more of those sessions than necessary._

Personal opinions were to remain personal. A nagging segment of his evolving, patchwork psyche railed incessantly for disclosing as much as he already had. Another advised calm and eloquence in speaking to a superior officer would lead to later reward.

Better to weather the more-harmless ire of his tutor than that of Megatron, too.

Dreadwing's level stare remained deceivingly stoic. Ersatz supposed he should have walked away at that point. But something intangible, lurking behind the expression, pinned him to the spot.

He tried not to squirm.

"Was there... anything else, Commander?"

"Nothing immediate," Dreadwing admitted. "Though I have meant to ask, how are you finding your situation?"

A more benign question, there never was.

He reacted badly, of course.

"What business is it - " Ersatz clamped a servo tightly over his mouth, cutting off the errant demand mid-sentence.

Dreadwing arched a brow, but said nothing.

A nanoklik later the hand fell away.

"My apologies, sir. I don't... mean to respond so excessively off the handle."

"Fair to say that's the result of poor impulse control?"

Ersatz's shoulders sagged, and he did nothing to hide the brief, yet intense feeling of vexation. "...You might. I'm doing what I can to allay such reactions."

"Hmm. I thought as much."

He folded his arms, regarding the larger flier with a sidelong stare. Paranoia said he shouldn't confide in another who had just as much cause to berate, or use information against him, as he did to hear him out.

Somehow, it didn't stop him from asking: "Is it obvious?"

_'Obvious'? Does cosmic rust 'itch'?_

Dreadwing paused noticeably in evaluating the question.

"Well. One might argue, given your flair for the dramatic, it's certainly unmissable."

Ersatz's eyebrows and wings drooped to match his bowed shoulders. _Magnificent. And here I was, thinking I had already made progress._

A faint half-smile graced Dreadwing's visage. He gestured to the smaller seeker's altered posture. "My point exactly. You're of an expressive mindset, and a build to compliment it."

"Just my luck," Ersatz muttered, brows lowering further, claws tapping restlessly against his arms. "I don't suppose any _other_ seekers suffer from the same flaw."

The glimmer of a smile vanished. "I believe you'd be surprised."

He turned to leave.

Belatedly, Ersatz thought better of leaving the conversation on that note. Quickly reviewing the full import of the comment piqued his attention.

_Let's see what he knows, then._

He wasn't about to abandon this line of thought if there was some useful insight to be gleaned, at any rate.

"Sir, if I may ask, what do you mean?"

The SIC's heavy, departing footfalls gradually came to a stop. Slowly, his spiked helm turned back, revealing a bewildered visage. "I'm sorry?"

Ersatz kept a respectful distance, lest he had touched on an aspect better left unaddressed, and needed to make a hasty escape.

"The flaw," he repeated. "Was I mistaken in assuming it to be mine alone?"

Dreadwing frowned, pensive. His response, given after another silent moment, read as measured and controlled. "Only that in light of others I'm aware of, yours is not a unique case of eccentricity."

_Which could say Starscream's isn't, either._

"Indeed?" Ersatz smiled uneasily. "I wasn't aware."

"What are you getting at?"

He almost faltered, taken aback by the other's sudden sharpness. In tone and in adjusted stance.

"Oh, n-nothing, sir. Pardon my curiosity. It's just, I find the implications... interesting. And given all my current studies and conditioning are focused on a present tense, I have had few opportunities to bring the matter up, in the company of even fewer who could provide me with an answer."

_Or I have, but each time I've inquired, it's been dismissed or turned down._

Dreadwing's frown deepened. "Do your memories offer you no reference on the subject?"

_"Not exactly."_

Abashed, Ersatz glanced down.

There was a big negative when it came to amassing a life of one's own experiences. The line, between his memories and Starscream's, was a welcome distinction in terms of establishing his own personality. But dividing the two had its drawback.

Like warring factions, both sets of memories compared and contrasted. They fed off of each other, generating much inner obfuscation. Every little instance was subject. And even within the span of a few short Earth days, the resulting distress was reaching near bothersome levels.

It was all too easy to appear somewhat dejected.

Physically, he may have been healing, if not improving.

Mentally, he was being to burn out.

"They have plenty to say, sir. I'm at a loss as to what it all means."

Convincing or not, it felt somewhat unburdening just to admit.

At great length, Dreadwing replied:

"Well, although it is not my place to misinform you, and Starscream may teach you differently, whatever I can disclose here would be based upon my own experiences. Do you understand that?"

Even-tempered. Genial. Professional.

Everything Starscream wasn't.

Ersatz almost felt a rush of disappointment. Mystification, stemming from the very question he meant to ask, overshadowed it.

"Yes, sir. Whatever advise you could offer, it'd be most appreciated. I'd be in your debt."

_Debt. Ugh. Maybe not the best word to use._

Luckily, Dreadwing wasn't inclined to directly accept it.

"It's no more than an offer from one to another. I'm willing to extend you that small measure, as you appear earnest in your mission to serve the Decepticon cause."

He stepped closer, easily towering over the smaller mech by several feet. "But if thinking of it as a debt helps you to rationalize such a gesture, know I will not fail to make you aware of said due, should you ever... recant."

Quiet malevolence. Just as effective as the loud kind, when used with poise. Inwardly, it struck a cord of unease, reminding him to tread lightly.

Outwardly, Ersatz smirked affably and bowed for effect. "Of course, Commander. I would not have expected otherwise of you."

"What is it you desire to know?"

"Why is it _you_ were not appointed as my instructor?"

Dreadwing's wickedly-clawed servos flexed slowly at his sides. His expression remained calm and controlled. "I'm... afraid I don't follow."

Ersatz crossed his arms, glaring. He offered a blunter query: "You are classified as a _seeker_, aren't you?"

"Correct."

"Then why didn't Lord Megatron select you over a known belligerent traitor?" The stunned silence that ensued compelled him to elaborate. "You were the captain of a seeker army, the Air-Army equivalent of Starscream's former rank."

"How do you know this?"

"Does it _matter_?" Ersatz asked, snappish with exasperation. "It's just... I find it too disconcerting. My elected role model is the worst living example of loyalty the Decepticons have ever known. How is it Megatron could ever have considered using _him_ to tutor me, when he has no better an example than you?"

Any flattery was unintentional. Vehement, unmistakable disbelief coated his words. He had meant for it to.

Dreadwing frowned again, but in that instance it was done with an air of quiet contemplation.

His mood softened by the barest amount, seemingly taking the younger seeker's tone, and not his words, for what it was. "Do you find the prospect of working with Starscream so frustrating, that you would freely unburden yourself to me on the subject, regardless of the ramifications?"

Ersatz fisted his hands, trying to calm the restless tremors gripping his relays, optics shuttered. "I had to say _something_, sir."

_Then you just happened to grab my proverbial ear._

"It's not our place to question Lord Megatron's decisions. It is our place to fulfill them. No matter how we may feel."

"...Granted."

"In any event, you should not let such trivialities preoccupy your thoughts. A soldier must understand that there are some decisions in which no amount of afterthought will do them any good, much less change the outcome."

Ersatz heaved a small sigh, as the trembling subsided. He didn't feel comforted so much as he felt placated, to know the SIC would rather issue him a reminder than a staunch, uncaring order not to ask any more flippant questions.

"I suppose."

The near-gentle rebuke rotated around into a veneer of professionalism. "And, in light of known seeker behavior, you're not so different from the norm, in that you are still assessing the tangibility of this 'partnership', consciously or no. Your social parameters are being established."

"Established?" Ersatz repeated, slightly panicky. He didn't quite like the meaning behind the word, which felt something akin to permanent. "I was under the impression this was to be a _temporary_ arrangement."

Dreadwing shrugged, unperturbed. "However temporary it is or isn't, you'd do well to allow it to run its course. There's nothing to gain in resisting one's base programming. Temporarily conceding ground in the interests of finding a workable dynamic would be best for you, as it were."

_Small comforts, remember? Better them than none at all._

Ersatz's eyes dropped to the floor, his closest confidant. It was no more baleful than it was kindly.

He was fast getting tired of looking at it.

Flatly, he responded with what had fast become the two most commonly used words of his vocabulary:

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose I should also compliment you on finding the sense to broach such a question now, rather than until your next trial in the field. There may even come a day in which you will do so with a wingmate at your side."

Ersatz flinched despite the lack of malice. His exploits at the Arizona mine were presently both his greatest achievement and his greatest folly. As much as he looked forward to receiving another chance, he'd be being less than honest with 'himself' if he didn't admit his fear of faltering.

The idea of being sent into battle, in the shadow of his helterskelter-minded creator, only compounded his rising anxiety.

"Next time, Commander? I'm sincerely hoping that until next time and beyond, those two issues are to remain mutually exclusive."

_The last thing I need is him being granted flight. Then he'd be a challenge in every sense of the word, not just in conversation._

Their association was mercurial enough. Ersatz didn't see how it would turn for the better if Starscream found a way to secure a T-Cog replacement.

But intuition said, with no small measure of doubt, it was only a matter of time until he did.

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** I dunno. I want to say I like Dreadwing, but being a Starscream fangirl, I feel like I'd be committing treason if I were to admit that. XD

And at any rate, I needed to write _someone_ who wouldn't so openly judgmental of Ersatz if he were to (basically) seek counsel. Dreadwing seemed like the most practical choice for that. Perhaps there's something in our clone's personality that reminds him of Skyquake.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Some Kind Of Amity

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Another "part filler, part dialogue" addition.

Ersatz has had his fair share of sympathy (by the nature of latent reviews). Time to put the shoe on the other foot.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Thirteen: Some Kind Of Amity_

* * *

A few days later, he began to think differently of Dreadwing's words. At least the ones that had to do with establishing behavioral parameters.

Perspective. The state of one's ideas, or the facts known to one, in having a meaningful interrelationship. Hardly the most straightforward definition of the word.

But then again, life was proving anything but straightforward, or easy.

And while he should have expected as much for himself, it came as something of a surprise to Ersatz to realize the same was also holding true for his inimical mentor.

Or maybe the surprise was merely limited to how he came to find Starscream one day, when he quite literally tripped over the other seeker and nearly faceplanted against the floor.

Naturally, Ersatz's first impulse was to turn around and strike out, physically _and_ verbally. How dare Starscream lay just inside the chamber's door like that. Didn't he know what a hazard it caused?

The impulse fizzled the moment the younger seeker realized why.

Lying curled on his side, Starscream glowered back at his student, one arm wrapped protectively across his chest. The death-stare would have been convincing, were he not covered from helm to pede in scrapes and dents.

Ersatz blinked. That explained the soreness he was feeling, despite another eventless day of patrol.

Then he smiled, feeling a tiny bit of guilty pleasure at the sight. While he had been out, someone had seen fit to do what he had been contemplating for the past week.

"I thought I heard a noise in here."

_And look what I find: your sorry frame._

Starscream acknowledged that with a groan and a roll of his optics, but said nothing.

"What happened?"

The older seeker glanced away, vocals tight with discomfort. "Nothing. A misunderstanding."

"Well, if 'nothing' was a misunderstanding, wouldn't that make it something?"

A sighing growl, hoarse as it was pained, answered him.

Ersatz sighed and climbed back to his feet, using the table behind him for support. "All right, please accept my _apologies_. You're not in the mood."

Begrudged silence confirmed as much.

"Well, would you like a hand, or are you having too much fun playing doorstop?"

A redundant question. But it served its purpose, irritating to the point the once-SIC braced his hands on the floor and struggled to rise. His shoulders and arms shook noticeably with the effort.

Ersatz grimaced, feeling the mirrored aches sweep across the relays of his upper torso. Yes, the binary link was still alive and well, despite Knock Out's assurances that it would someday degrade.

Someday couldn't come fast enough.

Only for that reason did he think it wise to offer assistance, and kneel beside the fallen mech. "Here."

Predictably, Starscream gave up his effort to try and stand in favor of swatting the offered servo away.

Ersatz paused, frowning at the new scratches the other's swinging claws had left across his forearm.

"Get back to your studies," Starscream hissed, managing to sit up against the wall behind him. With the change in position Ersatz could see the worst injury: the entire left portion of his chest plate appeared caved-in, scoured in deep, intersecting gouges. "This is just another matter you need not concern yourself with."

"You're still taking that stance with me?" Ersatz asked, unable to help a slight sense of disappointment. "Just the other solar cycle you complimented - "

"Whatever I said, it wasn't a compliment, particularly if it was directed at _you_. Now, leave me be," Starscream interjected, coughing breathlessly.

Ersatz's frown deepened. From the sound and feel of it, the older seeker was suffering from a compromised intake. Cybertronians may not have had the need to breathe as the organisms of Earth did, but cycling air kept one's systems functioning smoothly, powering pneumatic regulators within motor centers, helping to regulate one's internal temperature.

Seekers and other aerial bots relied upon their respiratory systems more than most. Given the high energy expeditures in flight and their higher-than-average metabolic rates, the ability and need to cycle air was of particular concern.

He plied the first most-likely scenario that came to mind, courtesy of his shared memory banks.

"Was this Megatron's idea of complimenting your _efforts_ thus far in teaching me?"

"I said, it's none of your business, _underling_."

Ersatz held the irate glare, unflinching. More and more, that word, and others like it, were proving ineffective as insults when hurled his way.

"Well, I _would_ return to my studies, then. But I'm afraid the pains radiating from your sorry aft will be too distracting for me to work with."

He stood and leaned down, grabbing the injured flier by the arm. "So, I'm afraid you leave me no choice other than to help."

Starscream didn't protest in being lifted to his pedes. The moment he regained his balance, he made up for it.

Ersatz anticipated as much. Deftly evading the poorly-timed swing, he grasped the other's shoulder and spun him around, firmly pinning his front to the wall. A strangled grunt was the clone's reward.

"Stop it. I'm no more happy about having to waste my time with this than you will be to endure it. Now, move."

Starscream didn't take the surprise of being pushed out into the corridor well, either. He stumbled over his own feet and crashed to the floor.

Ersatz clutched at the doorframe, wincing and gasping as pain momentarily stole his concentration.

_All right... perhaps I should not have shoved him __**that**__ hard._

Coughing, Starscream struggled up onto his hands and knees, speaking only once he got the hacking fit under control. "Your bedside manner is anything but _kind_."

As much as he would have liked to, Ersatz didn't stop the marvel at the temporary reversal of their roles. He was content to welcome the opportunity for what it was worth, a finite chance to exercise his own take on authority. Nothing more.

And even though it had proved hazardous on the first try, he helped Starscream up a second time, and was rewarded with a blessed lack of resistance.

"I'm no more kind by nature than you are presently being cooperative."

"So I see," Starscream groused, reluctantly. Though the sound of his staggered, halting footsteps said he followed the other's lead without further complaint, there was a discernible hitch to his gait, as he favored his left side. "Tell me, then, what's your motivation behind this act of 'compassion'?"

_The nearest sickbay's three decks down from here, on the starboard side, right?_

"Concern for my own mortal comforts, as I said."

Ersatz stopped at the first junction they came to, consulting an internal schematic to get his directional bearings.

"That's a shame to hear. I was just beginning to think we understood each other, too."

_What do you mean, beginning?_

Their destination forgotten, Ersatz glared back at the once-mirror image of himself. "That would be you alone. I'm still having a hard time fathoming why it is you seem so oblivious to me outside of session."

"Oh, am I? I wasn't aware."

He scoffed. An uncreative lie was the easiest type to see through. "The frag, you weren't aware. How many times have I already turned up to one of our pre-scheduled lessons only to be waved off?"

Silence.

"Do the others know? Is it what Megatron saw fit to thrash you over?"

Starscream looked away and spoke around clenched denta. "This wasn't Megatron's doing." The claws resting against his ruined chest plate curled into a fist.

Ersatz's growing feeling of suspicion deflated, to be replaced with bewilderment. Carefully, he looked up and down the older seeker's battered frame.

"Then... who?"

"No one. Eradicons. I'm guessing not _all_ of them took so favorably to my lead during our master's lengthy absence in space as I thought. There are clearly still a few around boasting chips on their shoulder panels."

It took a moment to reference the metaphor's meaning.

"Indeed?" Ersatz asked, quietly, once the understanding clicked into place. "You're... sure they didn't mistake you for me?"

Starscream glanced back at him after another moment's wait, and his tone turned bitter enough to match his narrow countenance. "Even if that _were_ the case, I don't see how it might have dissuaded them. They made good use of the occasion, as I've been effectively stripped of rank."

_Evening the score, as it were._

"Didn't you try and convince them otherwise?"

"They weren't inclined to believe me. In their eyes I am little more than a consultant now."

_One more factor that's gotten under your dermal plating, I'm sure._

"Well, pity for you, then, that Megatron thought to keep me around so that we might enjoy such 'misunderstandings' together."

"I don't need your pity," the former SIC spat, gaze hardening. "Any more than I need your _assistance_."

He took a few hobbling steps along the corridor by way of example.

Ersatz didn't bother to stop him.

A few nanokliks later, the effort proved to be in vain.

_Clank._

"Slag!"

_Well. He wants it the hard way._

"...Are your gyros damaged, too?"

"Frag _off_, Ersatz!"

Audio receptors several corridors away must have heard that.

Unfazed, said clone helped his creator to his feet a third time. Blandly, he asked the one question that had been dogging his thoughts for several solar cycles:

"Were you always like this?"

Starscream's optics narrowed dangerously. It said all as to what he thought of the question, if not his arm being held across the other flier's shoulders, lending him support. "Like _what_?" he growled.

"This. Stubborn. Insular. Myopic. Very few of your memories portray you as having ever been anything else."

"...Good."

"That doesn't answer my question, Starscream."

"Give me a _reason_ to answer it, I'll more than _happy_ to."

Ersatz paused, uneasy, taken aback by the abisinthal smile that had slowly creased the other's lips.

_A look like that, do I really want to know?_

Yes. There was no better source to ask such a question of. How else would he know for certain what not to become?

He steeled himself, mindful to keep a careful grip on the wrist still held by his left hand. "You might do something _right_ for a change, and convince someone to avoid taking the same path you took."

Starscream tensed, wings stiffening.

He did not pull away.

Still, it was clearly the wrong thing to have said.

"What?" Ersatz couldn't help a nervous utterance.

"Doing the _right_ thing was never my strong suit," Starscream admitted, softly, contemplative. Then his voice rose. "So, the finer details of such examples, I need not disclose to you. They're grossly prejudicial when taken out of context. But you'd do well to realize now that not all paths one may take are necessarily done so of their own volition."

_What are you saying? Your hand was forced? Just as mine is in helping you to the sickbay?_

"So, I'll take that to mean it has something to do with your poor social skills?"

"Infer what you want. I just don't see the point in giving you due cause to go turning over rocks better left alone."

Ersatz blinked, affronted. "You're assuming I would."

_Again._

His actions were suspect at every turn, even by his adviser's standards. That was quickly growing old, too.

"Then trust me when I say I know it would only be detrimental to your goals. There are times when the past is best left alone, and this would be one of those times."

The advice fell on deafened audios.

"Trust _you_?" Ersatz scoffed.

_I couldn't trust you any more than myself at this point. Which isn't very much. Because you're so untrustworthy to begin with._

What did the humans call it, a vicious cycle?

"You must have an unhealthy amount of something in the processor if you think I'll fall for that."

"At least think on it," Starscream scowled, put down as his sage words were dashed, but some degree of the ire in his eyes faded. He arched a brow, and added astutely, "After all, I know better than you what happens when curiosity gets the better of me, don't I?"

_Should I take that as a warning, or a reason to inquire further?_

He chose the latter.

"You think we understand each other?" Ersatz hissed, incredulous. His creator's arrogance truly knew no bounds. "You may have the experience I don't, but the lack of honesty on your part is really starting to put a crimp in our dynamic. Every time we speak, I find myself listening to you less and less. How can you expect me to willingly heed your suggestions when I cannot appreciate what your basis for them even is?"

Starscream's glower returned. His tone turned low and sinister to match. "The mere fact I find the implications so troubling should be all the basis you need."

_And I started believing that, when?_

"Not a particularly persuasive argument, counselor."

"Only one I _have_, I'm afraid."

"The only one you're comfortable with using, you mean," Ersatz snorted, finally taking a step forward and guiding the other seeker to follow. It took a few stumbles before he matched his pace against the other's loping steps. "You can't be entirely at fault, I suppose. To have a secret you would guard so fiercely, from even your own _clone_, the price must be well worth this aggravation."

Starscream said nothing, as he needed not reply. Words he had already spoken, however long ago, supplied an approximate response.

_"You have no idea."_

Ersatz glanced aside, feigning a more nonchalant tone. "Maybe. What do I know? However, were I to bring this to Megatron's attention, that you haven't been entirely honest in your dealings with me, who's to say _he_ would be so understanding?"

"You wouldn't dare."

Abruptly, the younger seeker pulled away, leaving his companion to gracelessly attempt to reclaim his balance. "Why wouldn't I? You haven't exactly endeared yourself to anyone to any great extent."

Despite how it hurt (as the binary link attested to), Starscream straightened his back, squaring his shoulders. "Nor have you, my _apprentice_. Besides disobey orders, crash about, and generally make a fool of yourself, you're little more than a glorified foot soldier. What makes you think Megatron would listen to a word you'd have to say?"

Ersatz shrugged. The jibes rebounded harmlessly off an insulated counterpoint. "Credibility. Unlike yours, mine still counts for something."

"Tch. You're assuming a _lot_, even by our normal standards."

"It isn't assumption. It's proven fact. However sophomoric my actions have been, no act was committed with fraudulence in mind. Megatron made it very clear that any such transgressions on _my_ part wouldn't be tolerated. _You_, on the other hand - "

Starscream cut him off, leaning in as if closer proximity would intensify the glare. "And you'd risk giving up whatever amount of integrity you might have just to see me reprimanded?"

"Keep pushing me away, and you'll eventually leave me with no choice."

A hushed silence ensued, despite the conspicuous lack of an audience.

Nonetheless, Starscream kept quiet, considering the ramifications. He didn't stammer, or fidget uncomfortably. But judging by how his optics darted about, his logic centers must have been turning the mental equivalent of cartwheels.

Ersatz smirked, hoping against hope he wasn't indeed treading on ground better left alone.

"So, what's it going to be?"

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Ruh-roh. Cliffhanger.

Like I said before, it's not quite a bromance. And while I'm not following Ersatz's progress in a completely linear fashion, I thought it prudent to add a little scene that summarizes his and Starscream's relationship: each one vying to have the upper hand.

I'm open to suggestions as far as other filler-chapter-ideas go, too.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Neutral Corners

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** This chapter took way longer to write than it should have. Gah... *facepalm*

My sincerest apologies to those who waited. Multitasking between mediums (namely writing and digital art) isn't my forte.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Fourteen: Neutral Corners_

* * *

"What did I say?" the sports car tutted. He leaned in close, as it was the only way to effectively inspect the damage, uncomfortable though it may have been for both bots. "Only a matter of time before something like _this_ happened."

"You said nothing of the kind, Knock Out," Ersatz groused, lying prone on the horizontally-set berth. He kept his optic shutters closed. "But before you say anything else, can we dispense with the mockery?"

Delicately, Knock Out used the points of two digits to force the seeker's marred optic shutters apart, ignoring the gray mech's nervous exclamation of "Ah!"

"Make this easier for me, won't you?" With his other servo, the medic held his patient's helm still. His tone remained controlled and nonchalant, presumably in the interests of keeping the flier pacified. "I'd be happy to oblige your request, but given the circumstances, I need to know how this happened."

_For the historical record, right?_

Ersatz scoffed softly. He would laugh or whine at the irony of this later, whichever felt more apropos upon further thought.

"That doesn't mean you need include lecturing upon that which I can already figure out," he replied at length, trying to keep his jittery nerves quiet, thinking how best to word his argument. Without the specifics. "I just... took a risk, and it... blew up in my face."

Meaning Starscream's reaction to his clone's ultimatum was rather overwhelmingly negative, and amounted to an open-handed slash upside the clone's face. And he had used the distraction striking out created to stage a retreat. To where, was anyone's guess. That was the simplest way of describing the incident.

Knock Out winced, sympathetic. Having been on the receiving end of the former SIC's talons, he could relate to the damage. "More like carved a piece out of it."

Ersatz managed to keep his expression blank, uncontorted, as it would only be counterproductive to the medic's inspection efforts. Gingerly, he opened his undamaged eye. "How bad?"

From somewhere to their right, the medic discovered a penlight to shine into the afflicted optic. "Badly enough. Looks like you have some retinal bleedback happening in this eye."

"Not the other?"

"No," Knock Out replied, retracting the light and offering the black, reflective window adorning his left forearm. "See for yourself."

Ersatz instantly shied away, flattening himself to the berth, blinking in alarm. Two eyes of opposing retinal configuration stared back at him. His left eye remained unchanged, while the right, boasting new, shallow cuts across his pre-existing scars, looked as though its entire socket had been flooded with red light.

"Is that as... bad as it looks?"

Knock Out shrugged, smirking, as he probably found the seeker's timidity humorous. "Not really. Bleedbacks come and go, even in healthy bots, usually depending on internal chemical status. So, don't bother trying to reset it yourself. But as physical trauma caused this one, it should clear up anywhere within a few megacycles to a few days."

Nonplussed, Ersatz took a final look at his askant reflection before glancing aside. "Great..."

"Now, what did you say that upset the _Kommandant_ so royally?"

_Yes, about that..._

Carefully, Ersatz sat up, pausing as internal gyros took a moment to reorient themselves, reaching up to feel out the minor injury. "Something he obviously didn't want to hear. Aren't you aware how that goes?"

"Hmm. So, he's carrying on old habits."

Ersatz grimaced, flinching as one clawtip twinged a sensitive spot. "Precisely because I refuse to, it would seem."

Knock Out batted the seeker's hand away, shaking his head in mute disapproval. But the medic's train of thought remained on track. "And, assuming you're right, he finds that... what, threatening? Unnerving? No wonder you two are keeping your distance from each other, then."

The seeker scowled, optics narrowing. Trust the ship's physician to be keeping behavioral notes between clone and original subject.

Swinging his legs off the berth, he stood and took a few experimental steps toward the door, pleased to experience no further disorientation (as had been his primary reason for thinking to seek medical aid for himself). He rolled his shoulders, flattened wings settling into their original, at-ease position.

"Thus far, it's proven acceptable to the powers that be. As long as _they_'re happy, I'm content to leave the matter alone."

_And until they say otherwise, I won't go asking Starscream touchy questions again anytime soon, either. Not if it means almost losing an eye._

His work done, Knock Out pressed a control at the nearest console, returning the now-vacant berth to its canted storage-position against the wall. "Maybe, Ersatz. But even someone as green as you should be able to see that won't always remain the case."

_'Green'?_

"...What do you mean?"

"Lord Megatron, who else?" Knock Out's smirk didn't fade. "Take it from me: he doesn't abide sloth very well. Even among the infantry. And even less among his special projects."

Ersatz's grimace returned, but for another reason. "Please. By all I've been told and have seen, I'm no more a 'special project' than the eradicons are. It's just my... physical affectations don't let me blend in so seamlessly among them."

The medic strode by without a glance, headed in the direction of the sickbay's neighboring laboratory. "My point exactly: you're not taking any real leaps and bounds to differentiate yourself, behaviorally. And I doubt Megatron's appreciating the lack of initiative."

"And why should he?" Ersatz asked, wings drooping. In light of his reprimand, running to the sickbay and recollecting himself had felt like the safer choice rather than reporting the altercation to the Decepticon warlord (who surely would have asked to know what had instigated the problem). "He probably finds it entertaining enough, having someone around who looks like his former Second, carrying out menial grunt work."

"Oh, I don't doubt that, either," Knock Out replied, affably. "As rumor tells, this wouldn't have been the first time you and our once-illustrious _Kommandant_ went at it, though."

The bout of self-consciousness sharply evaporated.

_What, the little shot I took at him in Canada? That was to make him listen, nothing more._

_...How could anyone know about that?  
_

Ersatz's claws clenched loosely at the thought before he folded his arms, defensive. "I've quickly learned not to pay attention to rumors, Doctor. They clog your processor with too much needless RAM."

"Doesn't change the fact that people still talk. And, well, why would you need pay any attention to them when you're the source?"

"The _source_?" Ersatz hissed, pride inflamed.

The dark change in the seeker clone's tone, so acerbic compared to their usual, cordial conversations, gave Knock Out clear pause. He stole an almost-nervous glance back at the flier before fully settling into his workstation at one of the lab's terminals.

"I'll have you know that nowhere have I contributed to the prattle that so consumes the lower ranks, _Doctor_. I have nothing to gain in doing that, only to lose."

A gentle melody of beeps filled the tense silence as Knock Out began to type.

Ersatz frowned, taking a few steps closer. "Where did you hear this from?"

More beeps and awkward silence answered him.

"Knock Out, who _was_ it?"

Nothing.

Irate, Ersatz's wings lowered flush against his back, but he resisted pushing the subject any further. For a few sparkbeats, anyway. Instead, he glanced up at the workstation's cluttered screens with a rather blank stare. There, nothing was displayed that he hadn't seen before.

For a nanoklik, he let his inner logic circuits speak of their accord, in a significantly calmer, if pensive tone: "Oh. I see: you're indisposed now, and my presence here has suddenly become less than welcome."

He paused at that, stepping around to the sports car's other side, wings hiked back up. "Those who have already labeled me as mundane and predictable would probably expect me to _leave_ at such a moment."

The medic's steady typing slowed. "If you don't _mind_. I _am_ rather busy..."

"Yes, checking my latest bloodwork against control samples taken from Starscream, and finding no life-threatening developments. Just as you have on each and every occasion we've met, for the past two weeks. _Very_ time consuming, I'm sure."

The beeps abruptly stopped. Knock Out's focus dropped to his stilled hands, and stayed there, unreadable.

Ersatz tilted his helm, intrigued. "What's the matter, Doctor? Are we becoming a bit discouraged?"

Slowly, the medic met the seeker clone's gaze. For once, his visage was devoid of the arrogant, self-assured smirk he maintained as flawlessly as his plating. An unimpressed scowl sat in its place.

"Yes and no."

The seeker hesitated, mask slipping. That wasn't the response he anticipated.

Faced with a perilous topic once again, he wasn't so sure of inquiring into it more specifically. But even the unsavory possibilities were better than not knowing at all.

"R-really? Well... how so?"

Knock Out leaned back in his chair. "First, leave those pseudo-manipulative performances to Starscream. You're only embarrassing yourself with such an imitation. Second, if you must know, I didn't hear any insults against your character from any one party. So, don't spin yourself up. _Again_."

Abruptly, he stood. Ersatz stepped back automatically, despite there being no obvious threat in the medic's gesture.

"Third, your behavior - as I've known it - is proving as enlightening as it isn't. On the one servo you seem to be a textbook study of seeker coding, as its been known for eons. On the other, you seem caught halfway between following Starscream's borrowed persona, and 'trying out' various traits, seemingly without basis."

Ersatz's wings folded against his back strut a second time, complimenting the bewildered stare on their owner's face. "That... about sums up my predicament, Knock Out. But what does it have to do with your shortage of conclusive test results?"

Dark red optics narrowed in a rare show of seriousness. "Everything. Every method I know, and I _know_ and have tried nearly _every_ one possible, mind you, has come with nothing. Nothing that would explain why, of all the effects Dark Energon may have had, there are no visible, corporeal indicators of its influence present."

"So... your theory is that if its influence isn't manifesting physically, it is... behaviorally?"

"And that's discouraging because, when one such as Lord Megatron expects answers you've assured him you will find, to _not_ find them is rather detrimental to one's reputation as a scientist."

_Then it would be your error for presuming there were answers in need of being found, and telling him as much, wouldn't it?_

Ersatz grated his claws together idly, processing the new intel. "Then, if that's your answer in the positive, how is a lack of results not discouraging?"

"Because the fact that I have no means of verifying my hypothesis as it stands, is through no fault of my own. Simply: there are no other clones left to compare your case to."

He felt his tensed muscle cables relax. "...I see your point."

_Nor do you have any Dark Energon fragments._

He kept that thought firmly secured. The seeker clone knew of the processed Dark Energon still sitting in storage. He had discovered the stash during one of many walks about the ship, and had already resolved to stay well away from it. That it sat, untouched, in an unlocked, public cargo hold told him he was not the only one leery of its presence.

The nightmarish possibilities of that element haunted him enough during his recharge cycles. He would not let his mind go there during waking hours.

Knock Out shrugged, unbothered. A glimpse of his usual, flamboyant air reappeared. "Then, getting back to you and the _Kommandant_, and how you two don't seem to be bonding, that's what I meant by textbook seeker coding. Given time to size each other up, you're too alike to mesh."

"What do _you_ know about seekers?" Ersatz asked flatly, disbelieving. His academic studies had not yet covered that demographic of Cybertron, and seldom yet had the matter been brought up between him and the medic.

"Enough to deduce there's a big reason so few of you are left. But at one time they were well worth their weight in service."

Ersatz frowned. "Really? I thought it was just circumstance, given the war."

_And that Starscream was being evasive and less than truthful with me when he noted as much._

Knock Out shrugged again, settling back into the empty seat. Sitting back, he rested his crossed legs against the console's boards. "Eh, partially. The type has its drawbacks, more of which appeared with each new generation sparked, and those disadvantages became even clearer upon being applied in battle. Nowadays you'd be hard pressed to find a complete trine anywhere."

Ersatz remained standing, but resisted the urge to pace, working off budding agitation. He looked instead at his restless claws, clinking quietly as they brushed against each other, and listened to the once-irritating sound he had gradually grown used to.

"And there's a reason for that, too?"

"Why wouldn't there be?" The sports car raised a hand and looked away. "But sadly, I'm not privy to the complete story. It's probably better I don't say."

Scowling, Ersatz clenched his fidgeting servos. "Of course."

Still playing the scientist, Knock Out wouldn't be much help. He would only be keeping an objective distance, being his interests were only professional.

He offered advice as if it were all the same.

"Keep waiting. Starscream will bring it up at some point, I'm sure. If you and he can avoid taking your mutual hatred to any greater extremes than a slap in the face, you'll get your answers soon enough."

_Soon enough? Tch. Meaning, at the rate the war has gone, I'll have to wait a millennium or two?_

"What if he doesn't bring it up?" Ersatz challenged.

A baited pause that ensued spoke to how the medic's confident air faltered. He blinked slowly, perplexed. "What... makes you think he won't?"

The seeker clone folded his arms, leaning sideways against the console board. "You tell me. You've _known_ him longer."

"Personally? Not _that_ much longer."

"Compared to me, that's something," Ersatz gestured toward his afflicted optic. "You want to know how this happened? I pressed too hard in trying to convince him it would be better to disclose his reasons for avoiding me. If this is any measure of how sensitive an issue it must be, nothing short of a fear of termination will get him to talk."

_And if a big threat isn't going to work, better off to start small._

Knock Out shook his helm, hands raised. "I still don't see how telling what _I_ know of him might help _you_. Not when I don't know what your intent is."

Ersatz scowled. Once again, he was confronted with someone acting as though the act of comprehending a greater picture was beyond his understanding. Even when he had at least a week's worth of time behind him that attested to how he could.

Being told as much again, after being told so many times he had lost count, he wasn't swayed.

"My intent is to _understand_. And what you know, it'd be something, Doctor. Just tell me what you _can_."

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** This began as little more than a filler chapter. In which Ersatz muses over a lesson learned, and Knock Out has a chance to act a little more like a doctor than a wisecracking narcissist. I threaded in some plot at the latter half to keep it all tied together.

Retinal bleedback is a fictional condition. Something to rationalize the changes (continuity errors) in Starscream's optics between his character models anywhere between "Partners", "Orion Pax", and "Operation Bumblebee". Personally, I like both variants.

If I had to apply logic to it, I'd say it's the Cybertronian equivalent of a subconjunctional hemorrhage, bleeding in the eye(s). The causes of this in humans are anything from physical trauma, to blood thinners, to hypertension, to vitamin deficiencies. Pick your reason as you see fit. While alarming to look at, the condition is relatively painless. Or so I've read.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Give And Take

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** *rant* I blame the desire to catch up on season eight of _Deadliest Catch_ for delaying the release of this chapter. Living without cable, as I do, sucks. So I finally broke down and began ordering episodes from Amazon. Stresses my Internet connection the the max, and totally distracts me from writing. *end rant*

Part filler, part plot. More N.Q.B. - not-quite-bromance. Kudos to _Szahara again_ for coining the acronym.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Fifteen: Give And Take_

* * *

"_What_ are you staring at now?"

Ersatz hesitated, blinking back to full awareness.

Their accommodations had remained the same. Nothing yet suggested the _Nemesis_' two seekers would eventually be granted individual quarters anytime in the near future. Which meant there was still only one recharge berth available.

Whoever claimed it was usually a battle decided by which flier found their way back to the chamber first. Tonight, that victory went to Starscream. It was just as well he had, though, given his mending wounds. Wherever, however he had found the means to treat the worst damage went without explanation, and Ersatz hadn't asked for details.

After his talk with Knock Out, the clone had had his momentarily fill of them. The revelations of said conversation, however vague and speculative, were enough to begin casting the former SIC in a new light. One Ersatz already knew he wasn't so keen to accept, not without further convincing.

He vented air in a half-hearted sigh. "Sorry?"

Starscream glowered, scarlet optics glinting in the near-dark. He half-rose from where he lay upon the berth, leaning back on one elbow. "You're staring. Again. At what, I don't know, nor do I particularly care. But you've been at it for three megacycles. I'm beginning to wonder why it is you haven't simply fallen into recharge yet."

"Only three?" Ersatz muttered, dismissing a sudden urge to quip about providing the other flier a 'night light' (a rather minor human invention, even among their already-primitive technologies). Following a tense silence, he added sulkily, "In this position, can you blame me?"

He sat upright, leaning sideways into the chamber's far corner, limbs folded up, one thin wing squashed uncomfortably against the other. Having already several nights like that, he had learned to fall asleep in such a state, and though it left most of his major joints stiff, he was almost accustomed to it.

Scowling, Starscream pointed out as much. "It wouldn't be the first time... So, my guess would be you're still rethinking the impact of our earlier... altercation."

"Your guess would be _right_," Ersatz admitted, in no mood to obfuscate or throw questions in lieu of answers, either. Resentfully, he went on: "You could have been gentler in your reproach."

"Like you could have been more tactful than laying on a poorly-considered, open-ended threat?"

Sheepishness crept into the younger seeker's expression. He ducked his helm to further conceal it, and let the embarrassed silence speak for him.

"Hm. I don't suppose I can fault you entirely for it, once _again_. Patience isn't any more a virtue of yours than it is mine. Building frustration only worsens the effect."

_Isn't it also like you, and me, to splice wires?_

The sheepishness instantly evaporated, replaced by a very-familiar dose of exasperation. Ersatz crossed his arms, slipping one leg's ankle behind the other, as though adopting a smaller stance made for a smaller metaphorical target. He tossed another sarcastic, rhetorical query out as a decoy. "Oh, aren't I just fortunate that you're still so inclined to forgive me these mistakes?"

"Well. You were quite persuasive in convincing me such tact was in my interests."

_How I regret not aiming for your __**face**__ when I had the chance. Never mind what Megatron's likely choice of punishment would have been. At least I would have spared myself from this roundabout banter for the remainder of my life cycle._

Ersatz clamped his optics shut at the reminder, willing himself to remain composed. His processor coding was fast becoming a twisted mess of proverbial, snarled knots. He needed to find something resembling an anchor, and soon.

"Dress it up however you please, Starscream. I can recognize an insult when it's meant as much."

"Interesting. You can't seem to withstand these infinitesimal shots at your so-called integrity, but hardly bat a shutter at being labelled a foot soldier?"

"Different aspects. I happen to keep a line between suffering insults to my character, against whatever role I play in service to the cause. It's enough I share your physical appearance. Why must I bear _your_ bad reputation, the criticisms that come with it, when if not _for_ your transgressions, I would not have to endure these insults? Be I a foot soldier, or a trainee, or anything in between."

"Speaking of..." Starscream muttered, taking the time to pause and rise to a sitting position, lounging against the wall behind his helm. "Consider your progress these past several days. _Then_ try telling me why I might not have reason to insult your 'service' in addition to your 'character'. You could be already advancing, and thereby differentiating yourself, more quickly than you have apparently chosen to. The fact you still have not been given a new shield can attest to it."

Ersatz closed his eyes. "Being given a shield wouldn't make me learn any faster," he huffed, talons gripped loosely against his arms.

_And at one time, your attitude wasn't so different. Allegedly._

Being given a sketchy account of Starscream's background didn't make said flier, with all his faults, any more winsome. At present, it only him seem more pathetic, compared to what he had once been, and worthy of spite. Full disclosure would turn such a mild dislike into a passionate hate, Ersatz was sure.

Or he hoped so, anyway. There were a lot of gaps left to fill.

He was supposed to equal and eventually surpass his 'original'. Not be identifying with him.

"Your authority over me is _limited_ at best. You don't hold the rights to determine to what degree my expected learning curve need arc. Megatron will decide the threshold for such a projection."

Starscream made a show of examining his claws, faux-blasé, the scarlet light from his eyes glinting off the sharp, black digits. "Yes, him. Perhaps. But my limited authority is still _authority_, and, as you were so gracious to point out, I've decided I'm also quickly tiring of our constant acrimony. We could be making this so much easier on ourselves..."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know," Ersatz harrumphed, eyes opening to express a glare. Belatedly, he unfolded his limbs and stood up, as the inherent discomfort in remaining tightly huddled in the corner did not help his focus. "For argument's sake, what else would you have retaliated with? By threatening me in kind?"

"Something like that," Starscream replied, lowly, with malevolence plain to be heard. "If there's one thing time has taught me, it's how to keep tabs upon those I loathe, and those I despise more."

"Yet another one of your oh-so-fine distinctions," Ersatz growled, staring at the wall immediately to his right, wings fanned defensively. He wasn't so curious as to inquire to which tabbed standing he fell under. "I take it it's another learned habit?"

"..."

An engrossing, bitter silence if ever either mech had heard one.

Ersatz glanced sidelong at the stubbornly-mute flier. "Fine. Then instead of civilly declining my proposal, why choose the alternative of giving me a few more scars?"

"Hmm... Be it part blind reaction, or part payback, you may take it as you please," Starscream admitted, shrugging. "And to simply mar your face wasn't the idea."

_But it's no secret you took a little pleasure in doing so, I'm sure._

"What _was_?"

Within a few cycles' thought, the pensive frown gradually morphed into a cagey smirk. "...Call it a clue-by-four."

Ersatz squinted. "A what?"

"Human expression. Look it up."

He did. Though he bristled at the veiled insult, the definition jived with what the clone had already suspected. "Oh. _That_ computes."

_He thinks me clueless. And a smack upside the head was his way of offering advice?_

The multifaceted ins and outs of Starscream's quicksilver logic never failed to amaze. Said examples were only disappointing if said astonishment wasn't of the positive kind.

"So... why _didn't_ I report it, then?"

"Why? You did what _I_ would have done, and panicked the moment your 'plan' fell apart. That's why."

Ersatz's brows furrowed. _This being probably the only context in which he'd put ego aside and freely admit himself capable of such panic._

But if it kept Starscream talking...

Slowly, Ersatz strode over to the door, inspecting the keypad there to ascertain it was locked. He felt eyes watching him, expecting an answer. His concern, now knowing word of their spat in Canada was on its way to becoming common knowledge aboard the _Nemesis_, how many other 'eyes' or 'ears' could be present, in hiding?

"Say you're correct. Have _you_ rethought anything I said?"

"At length."

"...And?"

"And the only conclusion I've reached is how urgently we must reach a new consensus. Neither of us will benefit for letting our petty quarreling lead us to greater disaster in the long term."

"Would this hypothetical pact better serve you, or me?"

There it was, the infamous smirk again. "Both, I'm hoping. Although it won't be much in the way of an agreement at all when one party refuses to cooperate."

"Cooperate, how?" Ersatz demanded, turning around. "I've complied in everything else asked of me, in every way imaginable. You're the one holding out."

Starscream frowned, averting his gaze. "I have my reasons. _Legitimate_ reasons."

"Legitimate reasons you haven't detailed because you think me incapable of understanding them, or find them abhorrent, or both," Ersatz laughed in disbelief. "You're unbelievable. How could you ever expect me to trust you, if _you_ can't bring yourself to trust _me_? The pitiful, dimwitted clone? By your own account, and nearly everyone else's, I am your _inferior_, yet you find some way of rationalizing that should somehow _endear_ me to you? It hardly seems like an equitable deal.

"Here's a thought: why not let it be initiated on _your_ part? I'd consider that nearly _even_, given you are the instigator of this entire affair, and you'd be taking a crucial step in my possibly absolving you of some wrongdoing."

Starscream flinched, looking a mite insulted. Rightfully or not was a matter of opinion. "What makes you think I'm _worried_ as to whether or not you'll ever forgive me said transgression?"

Ersatz shrugged, giving up one arguing point in favor of another. "Granted. Then, if not that, you'd be lending factuality to a trait you presently lack, but I seem to possess."

"What trait?"

"Loyalty," the clone stated, flatly, knowing against knowing that the words _Starscream_ and _loyalty_ did not belong in the same sentence. "Which, according to some, you once had a sense of."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that prior to leaving Cybertron, you had a trine. By the time the _Nemesis_ reached Earth, you _didn't_. As I've been told, trines are the crux of any self-respecting seeker's existence. I'm very much inclined to assume the parting of your's wasn't as fateful as you might have me believe."

Starscream's reaction was rather low-key, considering the subject matter. One hand tightened against the edge of the berth before he carefully, deliberately shifted aside, sitting up to glance over at his stonefaced student.

"Where did you learn this from?"

"From Knock Out."

"And... what did you promise him in return?"

Ersatz quashed a sigh of dismay before his systems could expel it, claws clenching. He should have anticipated that, the older seeker trying to retreat into another, safer topic.

_Humor him for a cycle..._

"What makes you think he named a price?"

"One of the unfortunate cornerstones of Decepticon decorum: nothing is given for free."

"Really? I thought that was just you," Ersatz seethed. "Now, about your trine?"

"...What about them?"

"Thundercracker and Skywarp?" He recited the names curtly, sounding them out with natural (or was it unnatural?) ease. His visage remained complimentarily stoic, even as the other flier shyly looked away. "I know their designations. But _I_ don't know who they _were_. Now, quit dodging the subject - "

"I haven't been - "

"And stop denying you're dodging it!" Ersatz snapped, clapping a servo over his face in exasperation - both at his impulsive outburst, and his creator's automatic denial. "Primus above, and all that is right therefore, indulge us that much."

Nonplussed, Starscream stared mutely back at his clone before chancing an amused smirk. "...Repeat that a little louder. He might just hear you."

_Frag off..._

Instead of say as much, overwhelming the urge to was, Ersatz let his once-neutral expression turn decidedly sullen. Scoffing, he looked aside and waited.

"Very well. If you feel so strongly that you must know, in order to move forward, I suppose there are worse ways to find out besides hearing it from me."

Ersatz sagged against the wall, gradually sliding down to sit on the floor, wings drooping at his sides. Any burgeoning sense of elation or relief was easily eclipsed by a strong, still-waning vexation. "That's what I've been _trying_ to say all along..."

"I'll oblige you with the most straightforward explanation, then."

_Oh. Bonus._

"Starting where it is you've seen fit to stumble upon the story, yes, Thundercracker and Skywarp _were_ my trinemates. They were the leaders of the wings that comprised my squadron. We'd known each other since long before the war, before our association with the Air Command. When the scope of the conflict reached Vos, we came down upon the side we believed more strongly in."

Ersatz didn't mince the first question to come forth. "And now they're, what? Missing?"

"Certainly not offline. Nonsensical memories notwithstanding, you _would_ have grasped as much were I to have ever learned they are dead."

"So, where are they?"

The ensuing delay stretched on to the point Ersatz almost thought the former SIC would not answer.

Quietly, Starscream disproved his clone's unspoken assumption: "I... don't know."

Ersatz blinked, helm and wings lifting in genuine surprise. "Come again?"

_Is __**that**__ what's so painful for him to admit?_

"How could you not _know_? A trine bond - "

"Is not permanent, artificially forged, and prone to enervation, should the parted wingmates be separated over a great distance, and if the passage of time has been long enough," Starscream explained, snappish. Affronted, he crossed his arms and turned away. "Are you happy now?"

Happy was not the word. Ersatz glanced away, unable to deny feeling a twinge of sympathy. And instantly loathing himself for it. Why should he feel sorry for the orchestrator of his as-yet life-long dilemma?

_Confounded seeker programming. I don't have a trine, have never known what __**is**__ to have one, and I still empathize with him._

_Or is this feeling meant to be a warning, something saying I'll eventually be sorry I asked?_

He exhaled slowly, measured, careful not to let the ventilation read like a sigh. Sarcasm, or losing his temper didn't feel like the appropriate response. "How long has it been?"

A hushed quiet fell, interrupted only by a creak of metal against metal, presumably as the other seeker turned to look back at him. The bitter edge to his narrow expression melted into confusion. "What?"

_He probably expected me to take that as reason to hurl more insults. Not so surprising for someone always acting on the defensive._

"Since your trine was separated? Do you know?"

"...At least several vorns. Perhaps more."

Ersatz ran a search, sifting through his mismatched memory banks, and found it. There was an empty segment, around the same guesstimated time frame. Blank not for anyone's unwillingness to explain it. But blank because it was just that: empty. Not a digit of code to be read.

"What caused this?"

"If I knew, you wouldn't have reason to ask that."

_Point._ Ersatz rolled his optics, voiding the useless search result. "So, that's one matter you can't possibly be lying about, and it's a start."

"I don't like dwelling on the past," Starscream confessed, haltingly. Idly, he unfolded his arms and tapped one clawtip restlessly against the berth, as if suddenly wishing to keep time with the passing nanokliks. "No good comes of it, and most find hindsight to be a sign of weakness."

"Most being Megatron?"

Starscream's dually unimpressed look was all the affirmative he offered.

Ersatz ducked his helm and glanced away, the closest gesture of an apology he would not give words to.

_Superfluous apologies - they're another sign of weakness, aren't they?_

"I can't blame you for thinking him a likely candidate, either, as I do. Naturally, our master has long been at the top of my suspects list when it comes to who might've been involved." The older seeker raised a claw. "But I will _not_ pursue an investigation against him if it means exposing my wingmates to any risk, missing or not."

_Fair enough. Thundercracker and Skywarp most likely are the 'seldom few' Megatron referred to earlier in the brig. And it's probably the only circumstance in which Starscream would think of someone's welfare besides his own._

"What other names are on this 'suspects list'?"

With a tired sigh: "No one present aboard the ship. That's _all_ you need know."

_Not fair._

Ersatz frowned, reaching over to rap a closed fist lightly against the other's shoulder guard. "Stop telling me what I need or need not know. I _can_ discern that much for myself, if given the _chance_."

In contrast to the murder-glare he now aimed at his student, as if outrageously offended by the harmless tap, Starscream's tone remained level. "...I'll need to start _another_ list of things to stop telling you at this rate."

"That'd be advisable," Ersatz groused, wiping distractedly at his face with his other palm. The new cuts below his right eye, while left uncovered, were developing a slightly itchy sensation as they began to heal. "Why don't I do the same? We may both attain some working knowledge of how not to tread on each other's nerves so easily."

"I wasn't speaking literally."

Ersatz scoffed, affecting a mock-shocked expression, eyebrows raised. "You _fooled_ me? Imagine that."

"Oh, why imagine it when it's already been proven?" Starscream grumbled, unfazed. As abruptly as he had been 'struck', he paused to tap a sharp, extended clawtip on Ersatz's helm, earning a reflexive flinch from the younger seeker. "_It_ being your gullibility."

_Back there again, are we?_

"I'm still not all that partial to believing you there, either, given your well-established penchant for over-exaggeration."

"The frag with what you're partial to, Ersatz. Do you think I find enjoyment in rendering such negative assessments about you?"

"On one servo, yes. It makes you feel better about _yourself_, given your radically diminished status, to underestimate me."

"...And on the other?"

"On the other, I think said compulsion to belittle and keep your distance is not allowing you to see this arrangement as objectively as you could. And the fact that you could, but choose _not_ to, is what I find so infuriating. You've accused me of doing the same, while you also fail to see how it goes both ways."

The former SIC paused, considering the words, evidently having traded petty ire in exchange for mutually calm conversation. "Which brings the issue of alternatives back to my mind. Why would Megatron try partnering us, knowing full well the potential for a rivalry that could develop, when he has people like Dreadwing at his disposal, who aren't so prejudiced?"

"Prejudiced, in what way?" Ersatz asked, staring morosely up at the chamber's ceiling. "One look at me, every other Decepticon on this ship still thinks I'm you. And everything unsavory that comes with your name."

Starscream's hands clenched against the berth's edge again, but he kept resolutely silent. A bland, mildly-annoyed stare was the only inclination he offered for his student to continue speaking.

"As to why, Megatron hasn't been so forthcoming about, for reasons less than kosher, I'm sure," Ersatz concluded. "Hence, why I don't trust him implicitly."

"You shouldn't trust him at all."

"Why not? You once did."

Starscream sighed in clear aggravation, as his tolerance for up-close-and-personal accusations reached its apparent limit. Wincing, favoring his own injuries, he stood and strode away, putting valuable space between them. As much as was possible within the claustrophobic, windowless quarters.

"_If_ I ever did... it was a long, _long_ time ago. For maybe half a cycle."

Choosing to remain seated on the floor, Ersatz rolled his optics, resting his arms on bent knees. "Please, don't be so obtuse. I've seen and heard enough to infer you two once counted each other as comrades. How else could you harbor such long-lasting animosity?"

Starscream stared at the far wall, his posture hunched and withdrawn, arms folded. The minute twitch of one lowered wing betrayed his dismissive retort:

"Hmph. As I said, whatever we were, it's no longer the case. You shouldn't let the simple fact we were once amicable compatriots mislead you into believing that you could establish a better rapport with him than I."

"Given what he may have done to part you from Thundercracker and Skywarp, among other evils, what makes you think _that_ was ever my intent?"

The older flier didn't have to face his student to convey the necessary look of surprise. His sudden stillness, in the place of nervous fidgeting, testified to it.

"There you go again, _over_estimating me. I'm not in this to usurp or backstab anyone. Unlike you, I have not yet suffered any betrayals that would warrant my employing such methods of retribution," Ersatz paused, inwardly cursing his dermal sensors as he gingerly scratched at his damaged facial plates. Only now did he regret not snatching a mesh-patch from the sickbay when he could have.

"But, given how long you've made lies and treachery your calling, I guess _I_ can't blame _you_ for finding it so hard to believe. One's conduct can leave just as much of an impression on oneself as it does those around them. Maybe, at times, you're just a little too blind to your own _mis_conduct."

Starscream glanced sidelong at the younger seeker, optics gleaming as if a brilliant idea had occurred to him. "Maybe I am. And until now, whatever measures I have taken to try and change have all but been refuted or ended up working _against_ me."

_Another veiled warning?_

"Precisely. Does it really surprise you so much to discover you're your own worst enemy?" Ersatz countered, keeping any still-festering misgivings private. "How can I trust someone who can't even trust himself? Not a very wise insurance policy."

The gleam vanished. Starscream summoned another narrow-eyed glare and scowled, the reasons why known only to him. The one thought he chose to cite couldn't be more binding, more demanding of an answer.

"So, you can't trust me, because you feel you can't afford to. I get that. But, even if you don't, can you afford to trust Megatron more, when it's _his_ hidden agenda that could prove more dangerous?"

Ersatz frowned, brows in a line. He didn't like the feeling those words conjured in his logic centers, some sick combination of repulsion, apprehension, and recognition. That all of those stemmed from a valid question made it even more detestable to answer.

"Assuming he has an agenda, even though I've been advised not to assume _anything_, are you implying _you_ have a plan to match?"

"Whether or not I do is irrelevant to the question at hand. And even if I did, if past experience anything to go by, it'd probably pale in comparison to whatever that brute has in mind. Would you rather take your chances alone, or side with someone who knows and has seen what Megatron's capable of?"

The clone's befuddled frown only deepened.

_Not an easy choice. Megatron's done nothing to compromise me, per se. Should I risk losing his confidence in light of being advised of his duplicity, his ruthless willingness to exhaust every perceived asset to his cause, when he's done me no wrong? And should I side with the mech who's warning me of this when he's the same reason I'm even here, having to make the choice at all?_

Another mental knot for the wringer. How many more of those could his processor handle before it simply imploded?

_I said as much, and now I'm going to have to eat those words._

_"So, what's it going to be?"_

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Finally, we get something resembling answers. In exchange for new questions. Rude of me, isn't it?

Hey, at least you got a longer-than-average chapter. Longest yet, actually. And our seekers could (potentially) now be on the same page.

For the record, the unfolding take on SS's history (and just about everything else pre-present tense) is a remix of _Exodus_, _Exiles_, _War For Cybertron_, and my own fictional details. I use TF Wiki for reference as needed.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: First Come, First Serve

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Time-jump. After the agony that was the dialogue of the last chapter, we need some action. Action like one sees in the Bayverse. Involving gunfire and high explosives. Or close quarters fighting.

To whom it applies: get your mind of the gutter. If there's any romance to come, it'll be written non-explicitly.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Sixteen: First Come, First Serve_

* * *

With the groundbridge portal snapping shut behind him, Ersatz transformed to jet mode and dove through the thickening cloud layer. His immediate goals were simple enough: to keep his sole wingmate within sight, and view the blinking targets on his radar scope with no small measure of suspicion.

Their task: investigate three, recently-activated distress beacons. Equally simple. The signals of which were all emanating from the same given rock.

"What are the odds?"

"_Well, since you asked... certainly bizarre?_"

Ersatz winced, stifling the desire to groan aloud. Belatedly, he noted the HUD icon signifying the status of his comlink mic: still open.

Why hadn't he closed it upon stepping into the groundbridge?

Oh. Right. Because his mentor, without having to ask, told him not to.

"Well, since I've evidently asked for a response, on an open channel, would you care to elaborate further than that, Starscream?"

"_I would. But you're the one on approach. Better you tell me, once you have a visual._"

"I don't need a visual to deduce there are three separate contacts here. I wasn't questioning the nature of the disturbance. My concern pertains to, what are the odds of all three originating from a landmass this size?"

The situation was being followed aboard ship, of course. Prior to departure, Ersatz had spotted Dreadwing upon the bridge. Presumably, the SIC was there to supervise the former SIC who was, in turn, monitoring his student.

Even though the warlord was absent, Megatron would no doubt be receiving a full disclosure from the post-mission report. So the professional behavior was, undoubtedly, expected of everyone.

The pre-mission briefing had been short and to-the-point. Ersatz harbored no illusions to why _he_ was being sent into the field. Why dispatch the eradicons when there was a perfectly-able seeker clone to spare?

Given to rambling as he was proving to be, Starscream evidently found the scenario appealing. Even if the duty expected of him, monitoring audio/video playback feeds, was mundane and dull, it was safe. The knowledge of that alone had likely dissuaded him from voicing any refusal.

Nothing in his running commentary suggested he was unhappy, anyway.

"_Unique, then, especially in light of where they _could_ have originated. Assuming these are the auto-guided stasis pods we think they are, why not aim for a more remote landing zone, such as Russia or Greenland?_"

_Why, indeed?_ Ersatz glanced down, finally spotting the dark, craggy coastline his scanners said was there, stretching off to either side of the intended path.

The humans called it Iceland. Situated in the North Atlantic, it was a rather young geologic formation, still volcanically active in several places. And it was relatively sparse in terms of population density, too. The interior was near barren. Most settlements were littered about the fjords and bays of its southern and eastern coasts.

Ergo, it made perfect sense to investigate the phenomenon in the dead of a moonless night. A lesser chance of exposure, even if this given country had no standing military, meant lesser chance of the humans becoming aware of them, and therefore lesser chance of Autobot interference.

Theoretically. Smart currency said Prime's team would immediately move to investigate the signals once they detected the life signals of the investigating Decepticons.

The idea couldn't be more straightforward: get in, verify the signals, check for survivors (if any), and get out.

Descending, following the UAV's lead, Ersatz paused to rethink his earlier emotional leap toward trepidation. Without trying, his nerves were already showing, as he had thought they would, next he was sent into 'battle'. To talk to Starscream was better than to talk to no one at all, and would distract the younger seeker from his otherwise-errant, wayward thoughts.

"So, if these _are_ stasis pods, where's the ship they had to have ejected from?"

"_Because there isn't any ship. Wrong type of signal. Emergency-escape pods don't broadcast on the same wavelengths or intervals as the distress beacons of long-range, deep space pods._"

Ersatz hummed an affirmative. It came as no small wonder why his adviser would know that difference, considering his extensive background in the militant science division of the Air Command. With the trine issue posed, having broken the ice, Starscream had become marginally more inclined to talk, thereby confirming several of his skeptical clone's suppositions about his pedigree.

The minor, harmless details, anyway.

"What do you think, Soundwave?"

A databurst answered him. The given coordinates matched with those of the second beacon, somewhere in the northwestern corner of a shallow, oncoming valley.

Ersatz slowed, thinking. "So... you'll take the first, and I've got this one?"

The TIC responded by veering off to the east, in the direction of the nearest signal. He disappeared over the near-horizon within minutes.

_Wonderful._

Sighing, Ersatz fed more power to his engines, turned north, and climbed.

Empty air whistled in his audios for several cycles before a new query showed itself.

"...Starscream, do you agree with this?"

"_I would've said something if I didn't. If Soundwave believes you can handle a simple check run, why would I object?_"

"'Simple'? We don't even know who's behind sending these signals. What if - "

"_Quit your whining, Ersatz. No one wants to hear it. All you need to do is land, verify the beacon is of Decepticon make, ascertain its origin, then rendezvous with Soundwave at the third. It's as simple as can be._"

"...Yes. Copy that."

Ten cycles later, he found it: a fist-sized metal device nestled among the rocks on a steep, westward-facing hill. To switch to night vision was the only way one might have spotted its blue-black color against the black soil. Its location was easier to detect via audio. The soft beeping tones it emitted were the only counter-noise to the consistent howl of wind over the incline.

Ersatz paced around it, checking the engraved symbols on its outer panels against a provided index. Its model matched known Decepticon equipment, albeit this example was several vorns outdated, obsolete by comparison to newer designs. Three probes, launched from a single canister, would triangulate to a central point, where those in distress would have aimed to land and could subsequently be found.

Or not, depending on the context of the beacons' being utilized.

"Soundwave, do you copy?"

_Ztt... ztt.._.

Ersatz blinked. That was odd. Fritzing static was typically not the sign of a healthy communications channel.

"Soundwave, come in?"

_Ztt... ztt..._

"...Soundwave, of all the reasons for you to be silent, where does this one rank?"

Some deity the humans knew as Mother Nature replied. A particularly strong gust of wind caught the seeker's wing, nearly causing him to slip on the broken gravel under his pedes. Growling, he crouched down and changed frequencies, cycling between bands.

"Starscream, do you read me? Does _anyone_ copy?"

The static continued, making a mockery of his efforts.

Ersatz closed his receiver with an aggravated snarl, glaring at the indifferent beacon at his left. It merely continued beeping, utterly unbothered by its finder's consternation.

_Very well. Therefore I must go __**find**__ Soundwave in order to report my success._

He had performed the simple task given to him, only to have his radio fail in his attempting to inform his comrades. Brilliant.

Ersatz stopped short of taking off only as a new possibility occurred to him. A second inspection of the beacon would confirm or disprove it. Gingerly, he placed a hand over the device's top and tilted it to one side.

There, on its base, was another component, separate from the beacon's actual housing. As if it had been welded on at a later time.

The seeker clone started, removing his servo as if it had been burned. _Wait a moment..._

Then a new sound grabbed his ear, and built. He froze and listened, despite feeling the sudden, urgent desire to flee. The whistle of the breeze couldn't account for that noise. It was too shrill, for a vista so flat and open...

Belatedly, he looked up, and saw the cause. With a startled, if undignified yell, he ran, down the hillside, and leapt, shifting to jet mode.

Seemingly materializing out of the abysmal dark, a missile streaked forth and bloomed into a fireball against the vacated hillside, consuming the beacon.

Without glancing back, Ersatz sped south. He flew low against the valley's contours, struggling to gain distance.

A nanoklik after the beacon's signal disappeared, Starscream's pitched voice shrieked in his ear.

"-atz_, __**what**__ is going on down there?_"

The fighter jet flinched, momentarily shaken as the piercing decibels left his audio sensors ringing. Thankfully, they did not fail to detect the sudden racket of weapons fire. Or the bolts of superheated plasma that began lancing by his wings.

"Counselor, suffice it to say, it's did _not_ go as simply we might have hoped!"

A new icon appeared in his HUD, as his radar pinpointed the anomaly's status: airborne, and rapidly closing distance.

"_Did you turn your comlink __**off**__, you halfwit? We've been trying to raise you for a quarter-cycle._"

"Believe me when I say it wasn't my fault," Ersatz snapped, jigging right to avoid another scatterburst. "The beacons are rigged, some kind of com-channel scramblers. Has Soundwave reported in?"

"_If you're right, that would explain for why he hasn't._"

"Fabulous! Would the fact I'm now being pursued also be of any interest?"

"_By who? Humans?_"

"No, most likely whoever planted the beacons, which definitely are _not_ of human make. Now, when I can expect some backup?"

"_What's your position?_"

Ersatz rolled to one side, veering around to follow the rising curve of land. "And expose my course to any others who may be listening, so they might join in?" He paused at hearing the tell-tale scream of another missile launching. "Frag that! _You_ lock on to _my_ signal. I'm rather busy at the mo - Agh!"

_Not __**again**__!_

The shot clipped his stabilizer before plowing into the crook of his wing, exploding against his fuselage, propelling him sidelong into the hillside's face. He heard the mirrored scream of pain over the comlink a moment before crash-landing.

The fighter jet felt his nosecone dig, catch, and crumple into the unforgiving ground before his continued momentum flipped him end over end. He transformed mid-tumble, rolling to a stop in the dirt.

He came back to awareness with an abrupt flinch. Snarling, Ersatz lashed out at the uneven terrain, a useless stab at Earth and its gravity, before struggling to his feet. The agony registered in the same instant, leaving him gasping and cringing as energon began to flow from his open wounds.

On a quickly-growing resume of injuries, these were by far the worst he had yet taken. It felt as though every circuit across his back and right wing surface had been shredded and burnt to a crisp (as they most likely were; on top of all the new dents and cuts). Transforming on impulse had only aggravated the damage. External wounds had been turned internal. Fuel lines were shredded, splitting armor plating refolded in all manner of unnatural patterns, leaving sparking wires and inner workings partially exposed.

Apart from his new pains, his proximity sensors picked up the other jet's approach, heard the shift of transforming parts, followed by a smooth, cultured voice that seemed to manifest from nowhere.

"My, my. More than a bit out of practice, aren't we, Commander?"

He spun, automatically converting one arm into a blaster.

Only the sight before him, jarring lose a discarded memory file, stayed him from firing it.

Bright ruby optics. Her sleek, angled plating shone bright and silverish, almost like that of platinum, with highlights of turquoise and violet paint. With broad, pointed wings that did not quite befit such a slim, curvy frame.

He almost gaped.

_Oh, fan-fragging-tastic. Her?_

How could it be her?

"Slipstream?" Ersatz growled the femme's name, half in question, half in curse.

He'd thought she was dead, written off as being left behind in the assault on Junkion.

Evidently, this was not the case.

She favored him with a cold smirk, striding forward with confident steps. "Yeah, it's really me. I'm actually flattered you remember my name at all. I was sure you would have forgotten it among all the others of those you've gotten killed."

He tensed. Uttering her name was a mistake. It implied he knew her, and vice versa.

Nervous, the seeker clone stepped back, not that he had any hope of getting away in this state, and kept the blaster raised.

"W-what are you talking about?"

"Oh, spare me the runaround, Starscream. You did to me just what I know you did to the rest of the squadron: left 'em for dead."

He reacted too late. With practiced speed, she closed the distance and pushed the weapon aside, wrenching it around behind his back. The fired shot went wide.

"Allow me to return the _favor_."

They were about equal in build and height. One combatant wounded, however, it was no contest. Felled by a series of decisive jabs and a kick behind the knee, Ersatz found himself sprawled on the hillside. A pede between his wings pinned him to the spot.

Naturally, he was compelled to say something.

"Much as hate for our encounter to end this note, my dear, I feel I should inform you of something crucial."

His statement was met with a sardonic laugh.

"I guess I can oblige a last request, then. Not like you deserve it, but you always seemed to love the sound of your own voice. What might it be?"

He craned his neck to look her in the eye. "You've got the wrong mech."

The smirk only broadened, to match the wink of amusement that came to Slipstream's face. She leaned in. "_Of course_ you'd say that."

Ersatz winced as a blaster's pointed muzzle came down and pressed tightly against his helm, felt the searing heat emanating from within the barrel. He clamped his optics shut, trying to remain in control, and not let panic carry him away. "No, I mean it! You kill me, you'll be committing a _senseless_ murder, not a righteous one. I'm not who you think I am!"

"Please. It's been a long time since last we spoke, Commander. But it hasn't been _that_ long. I'd know your trademark style of retreat anywhere, any battle."

"Has it even c-crossed your, agh, _mind_ what Starscream would be doing out here, without reinforcements of any kind?" Ersatz asked, stuttering as the femme's sharp heel pressed into his wounded back. His fuel system keened under the strain, as energon bled from places where it wasn't meant to leak. "He w-wouldn't investigate any ordinary distress beacon by himself."

"That wouldn't factor into it. You're Megatron's personal toady, aren't you? The tyrant says, investigate the beacon, and the spineless waste of metal does what he's _told_. "

Ersatz growled to himself, irritated. To the pit with that act.

He rolled to one side, wrenching his frame out from under Slipstream's hold. The blaster went off, punching a clean hole through his undamaged wing. He moved without thinking, tackling her by the legs.

They careened further down the rocky slope, each flier grappling for control. Only by chance did Ersatz overpower his attacker, snaking an arm around her neck, burying the claws of his other hand into her upper arm. She hissed and squirmed, trying to twist out of his hold, before her body flattened against the ground, held there by his weight on her back.

"_Now_ are you going to listen?"

Slipstream's helm turned to glance at him. Gradually, her tensed expression quieted, to a more pensive stare. Her optics roved over all that could be seen before meeting his again.

"I could, be it you're... not what I was expecting."

He scoffed, trying to steady his shaky intakes. "Understatement of this planet's century, my dear. You fall planetside and set a trap, only to catch your supposed-prey's successor-in-training. What else might you have _possibly_ thought could happen?"

Slipstream pursed her lips. "Oh, nothing beyond what _might_ have been normal."

There was a _snap_, blindingly loud and close, as if a firecracker had been set off beside his ear.

He gawked at the suddenly-empty ground beneath him._ What?_

A whisper-like rattle of exoskeletal armor came from somewhere to his right. He glanced up only to receive kick to the face. His balance lost, he stumbled, folded into a heap and slid to the foot of the hill.

"So I'm assuming you're not one for the _norm_. Clones rarely are. What kind of bet did you have to lose to receive that face?"

Ersatz's processor rebooted and he shuddered. Tenderized dermal sensors warned him of a new indentation in his cheek. Presumably where the point of Slipstream's pede had almost taken his optic out.

_Fragging teleporter. Haven't my faceplates been mutilated enough?_

He looked up to see the femme glaring at him, blaster raised. She still stood several feet away, more than enough distance for him to dodge a shot in case the blaster fired.

Ersatz almost laughed in disbelief at the thought. No small comfort there. How could she possibly miss a gray target silhouetted a growing puddle of blue energon?

"My dear, would knowing the particulars really make any considerable difference to you?"

"Maybe. By what I see, you won't be flying out of this. You could still _walk_ out, though," Slipstream explained, resting her free servo on her hip.

Ersatz couldn't help a scoff, and rolled his mismatched optics. "Oh, how generous of you."

The smirk reappeared. "Call it a gesture of recognition from one seeker to another. Clone or not, I _suppose_ that means you're entitled to as much."

His ruined wings folded against his back, mirroring his expression of smoldering anger. _Most kind._

"Now start talking."

"About what?"

"Where you came from and why, for starters."

"Ha! That's a little _much_ to go into in one sitting."

"Your _brother_, then? Where is he?"

Ersatz's claws clenched. He spoke around gritted denta, and closed his optics as another low fuel level warning crossed his HUD. "Indisposed. Haven't you realized that?"

He heard footsteps. The femme stalked closer and circled her unintended target, as though wishing to inspect him from all sides. "Indisposed, how? The Starscream I knew didn't have any compunctions of getting his servos dirty. I hardly think he'd ever become so lazy as to send a clone to do a drone's job."

"I was wondering the same thing," Ersatz muttered, managing to rise to a sitting position, his movements stiff. Despite the pain of doing so, he clamped a hand over his bleeding side and tried to breathe easy, shuddering as energon ran between his fingers. "But as his student, it f-falls to me to take what missions I am given, no questions asked."

Slipstream's optics narrowed. In disgust or pity was unclear. "You're that devout?"

"I have this t-thing about _living_, yes. And at present, that means working with those I may not necessarily favor. So, I don't have much of a _choice_."

He couldn't hold back a cry of shock at feeling the blaster jab, unprovoked, against his helm again. He lurched sideways, barely managing to break his fall with one servo.

"Final question: being a clone of the mech you are, why should I _believe_ you?"

The whine of a capacitor, directly in his audio, made him cringe and close his eyes. Not out of fear, but dismay and annoyance. The irony of this situation, it was too much to stomach.

For the first, and last, time, the echoing quote to surface in the clone's mind was not one spoken by his original.

_"As if I needed convin - "_

A real-time shriek drowned out Arcee's words. He heard a sick _crack_ of metal striking metal, followed by a dull _thump_.

A cycle later, Ersatz dared to open his eyes, and blinked, stunned.

_Soundwave?_

The blank visor spared him the barest of glances before refocusing on the femme.

Ersatz glanced at Slipstream, eerily illuminated as she was by the light cast from Soundwave's bioluminsencent lines. She lay crumpled next to him, her armor smeared with ashen dirt and his lost lifeblood, limbs thrown askew. One of Soundwave's feelers remained snaked around her throat.

Soundwave reached over, using one hand to gently turn the femme over. Her helm lolled, unresponsive. A sizable gash across the back wept energon. Shut down, offline, or in stasis, her eyes were shuttered, dark, and her features slack.

The clone almost breathed a sigh of relief.

Unannounced, the air around them suddenly crackled and split. Green light flooded their surroundings, heralding an opening groundbridge. Ersatz looked up to see a contingent of eradicons file through the portal, weapons drawn, followed by Dreadwing and Starscream.

Scowling, the former SIC glanced between his fallen student and the unconscious femme before kneeling down beside the former.

"Tell me you at least didn't shoot _yourself_ down this time?"

Ersatz winced, optics flickering.

_Would it count as an improvement to say I didn't?_

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Lots of new questions posed by this one, I'm sure.

Yes. I gave Slipstream the ability to 'warp'. The difference between her and, say, Skywarp, is while he can teleport almost anywhere, Slipstream's talent is more of a phase-out, speed-shift to anywhere within her immediate surroundings. A little dash of creativity on my part to somehow justify her name.

Envision her how you like. I'll be sticking with her general, well-known descriptors as best I can.

And now Ersatz and Starscream have something else in common: both of them have, at some point, been thrashed by femmes.

And Soundwave has saved Ersatz's bacon twice. Gotta wonder how the TIC feels about that. ...How he feels about _anything_, for that matter.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Takes One To Know One

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** The last two chapters have been kinda lengthy (especially fifteen, which I've decided will be the high-water mark by which to keep all future chapters shorter than). So, this one isn't that long. Filler. Only about 2500 words.

I also must point out, the recent influx of Starcee stories [while most of them I find quite enjoyable] were what convinced me to make significant changes to BITS' plot. Adding Slipstream was one of those changes. We'll see if it pans out for the better.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Seventeen: Takes One To Know One_

* * *

A lengthy recovery was going to be arduous enough to endure.

This meddling was beyond the pale.

"Oh, isn't that just _adorable_? There I was, thinking those were _old_ battle scars."

Ersatz felt his spark skip a beat, and his optics widened in fear.

_Scrap. She's __**not**__ dead?_

Slipstream. Yet another new element added to his waking nightmare of a life.

He flinched, hardly daring to breathe as the femme's clawtip traced along his marred eyebrow. Her thumb brushed his cheek plating in a crass imitation of a kind touch.

Trying to curl away, he attempted to lift a halting, barely-responsive hand to swat at the offending servo. The latest dose of inhibitors had left him feeling uncomfortably slow and sluggish.

A second hand grasped his wrist. The other gently restrained his helm to the berth. Ersatz stilled obediently, glancing up at the red haze, also known as Knock Out, to his left.

"Slipstream, please. I can't have him moving too much. He has enough to be nervous about without you skulking around _while_ I'm operating."

The seeker femme frowned and she remained where she was: seated on a chair, leaning forward with her elbows placed upon the berth, directly beside its face-down occupant. Somehow, she had managed to sneak in, unannounced, while Knock Out was momentarily absent, collecting needed medical instruments from the sickbay's lab.

And, so far, the medic had failed in convincing her to stop 'fawning' over his half-sedated patient, and leave.

Slipstream frowned as the seeker clone shivered with unsuppressed anxiety. "Then why not put him into stasis?"

"Why does Lord Megatron not put you back in the brig?" Knock Out retorted, circling the table. "It's truly inconsiderate for you to show up here, with harassment in mind, considering you nearly lost your CPU a few days ago, and it is only thanks to _my_ efforts you survived."

"I've been through worse, Doctor," the femme boasted. She paused and reached back, as if to feel and contemplate the welded patch along the back of her helm. "And if you were so concerned about interruptions, shouldn't you have simply locked the sickbay doors?"

Ersatz glanced up at Knock Out, mute, but mildly sympathetic. _When Breakdown was around, there was never any need for him to._

"Most aboard this ship know _better_ than to intrude upon my workspace when I am with a _patient_," the medic declared, stressing each syllable. Clearly, he found Slipstream's uninvited company just as irritating as the absence of an assistant, ready to serve as a buffer. "Those who don't know? It's what the color-coded light outside the door is _there_ for."

"How very quaint," Slipstream mused, unimpressed. Again, she reached over to stroke the other seeker's faceplates, smiling as the gesture earned her another nervous flinch. "I was a mite worried about _Ersatz_ is all. Rumor says he's been sequestered here since last we met, and hasn't had much in the way of visitors. I just wanted to see for myself how well he was progressing."

Knock Out's disapproving frown remained. "So now you've seen him. Will that be _all_?"

"Nearly," she sighed, tilting her helm to one side. "I also wished to inquire as to what's this I've heard about there being no seekers aboard, barring the exceptions of myself, him, Dreadwing, and Starscream."

Ersatz blinked. Having spent the last several megacycles in surgery or in recharge, his knowledge of these recent developments was sorely outdated. _So, they've all been made aware of each others' presence?_

Nonplussed, Knock Out spared the femme one last glare before returning focus to his patient. "Qualified as I am, what makes you think I'd know the particulars of _that_ issue?"

"Well, simple: you're _the_ accessible officer here. The Decepticon hierarchy has grown a great deal more reticent in the time I've been away," Slipstream purred. "You would be the first I've sought to ask the question of."

_Flatter his ego some more, why don't you?_

Thankfully, the sports car saw the ploy for what it was. "The first and _only_ option, you mean? When the other alternatives available are our lord and master, one you have more than a few ill feelings toward, one is mute, and the other too loyal to disclose what isn't his to say?"

Had he his druthers, Ersatz would have laughed aloud.

And it didn't bother him to think Starscream probably would have, too.

Slipstream didn't share in her unintended-target's amusement. The warm tone in her voice turned decidedly chilly. "Then I'll have to find the answers myself, won't I?"

"Slipstream!"

_Speak of the devil..._

Unbothered, the femme merely raised her eyebrows and glanced in the direction of the opened sickbay doors. "Yes, Commander?"

Ersatz bid a quiet prayer of thanks to Primus. Only in light of a situation like this could Starscream's intervening presence instill feelings of comfort. Reassuring in that there was no fathomable chance of Slipstream discreetly trying to take the seeker clone offline while he was virtually helpless, under the watch of his two closest 'confidants'.

That would be too demeaning a way to go. Especially after being beaten to a pulp and winding up in sickbay because of said femme.

The older seeker walked forth, taking short, acrid steps, practically seething. "_What_ are you doing in here?"

"Nothing much, besides visiting your little brother. Is there a problem?"

Starscream approached the berth. His posture matched his arch tone, his expression dark, wings canted high and wide in outrage. "Oh, a few. Among them, your improper utilization of the aforementioned noun when neither he nor I count each other as _siblings_."

The former SIC's words practically oozed with condescending disgust. Ersatz frowned to himself, trying to contemplate the cause.

_For what? The implication of me being called his 'brother', or being apparently-compelled to tolerate an old subordinate who was, and probably still is, intent on killing him?_

Slipstream smirked at the other's flustered display, one full of little more than hot air, rolling her optics. "Yes, of course, Commander. But you know, as well as I, it's only a matter of time until you _do_."

"Then if there is nothing _else_, be gone. There are matters I must discuss with our resident physician that you need not be privy to."

"Uh, Starscream, I don't know if you noticed, but I'm overdue to begin a structural reinforcement procedure here?"

Starscream only spared Knock Out a silent, acidic glare in acknowledgement.

After a moment's pause, the sports car shrugged, lifted his servos in surrender, and took a step back.

Looking on, Slipstream scoffed, and leaned against the seat's backrest, legs crossed. "Does that mean he agrees with you willingly, or just that your 'limited authority' still counts for something?"

Arms folded, Starscream glanced askance at her. The pitched irritation in his volume quieted with thought, as if he'd resigned himself to the unfolding bout of tense conversation. "Assume how you will. You never were one for bothering to ask unnecessary questions."

"Like you weren't, and still aren't, one for calm and composure. That was Thundercracker's forte. You're slightly more... unhinged than I recall, but with the passing of so many years, isn't that how it was likely to go?" Slipstream retorted easily, shrugging. "Doesn't mean we can't make up for lost time."

_Lost time?_

Under these circumstances, Ersatz had little choice to leave Starscream to say what he was, most likely, thinking. All he could do was sit... _lay_ by, and hope the former SIC kept his feelings of acrimony under control.

_Should he not, he __**will**__ be hearing about this later._

"Please. We were never so intimate. And at that stage, you were equally never very concerned with making good use of the opportunities we might have had."

Slipstream shrugged again. "People _can_ change, Commander. However quickly, or slowly, depends on the context."

"That's a very forgiving attitude for someone who, as of twenty megacycles ago, seemed to be of the opinion I left Cybertron with a lot metaphorical blood on my servos, and therefore worthy of a vigilante-minded termination."

"I'm flexible. In that I _can_ adjust my opinions in light of uncovering new evidence."

"Such as?"

"Your pupil, here. Put on the spot, he seemed awfully unaware as to what I was trying to stay."

"...That can easily attributed to the fact he's an _idiot_."

Ersatz glanced up, his audio picking up the sound of Knock Out suddenly coughing into his servo, a cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh.

Slipstream simply shook her helm, muttering almost dejectedly, "Takes one to know one..."

"_What?_"

"Nothing."

Ersatz rolled his optics shut with an inward groan. _Femmes and their romantic drivel. Revolting._

"Then I take it the mood aboard the _Nemesis_ isn't what it once was?" Slipstream arched a brow. "Like your standing? Or sanity?"

Starscream scoffed. "Not that you need know the particulars. I'm told your stay here will not be so indefinite."

"Oh, you misunderstand, Commander. With this idiotic _kid_ under your questionable charge, you might be more in need of help than you think."

Ersatz tensed. _Oh, no._

Dismissive, Starscream rolled his optics, shifting his weight to one leg. "Help? After Iceland, how could you possibly think I'd be the least bit interested in wanting _your_ help?"

"What are or aren't interested in is relevant. I _can_ put grudges aside in pursuit of a greater cause, such as the one to catch my ear, saying Megatron's entrusted you with Ersatz's training?"

"...And?"

"And that you could sorely use a partner in the endeavor. It's my understanding you somehow... misplaced your T-Cog, was how they put it?"

"Just because I'm grounded does not mean there aren't other skills I can't teach him."

"Fascinating. You seem so sure. And how you plan to _fully_ impart said knowledge when you can't _fly_?"

Starscream opted for a begrudged silence in lieu of words. His churlish, narrow-eyed expression said all of what he thought of the reminder.

"I thought so. Forget the social repercussions. Being able to fly is eighty percent or more of what makes a seeker effective in combat. Being the head of the team chosen to determine that percentage, you would know."

"Hmph. What you're proposing would only do more harm than good."

"Says you," Slipstream countered. "Knock Out?"

The medic nearly flinched, closing the finely-pointed claws he had been inspecting into a fist. "Yes?"

"These two, how you would describe their... dynamic?"

"Uh... tolerable at best, borderline-antagonistic at worst?"

Slipstream nodded in understanding. "Not so unusual. Split-spark twins are known to exhibit much the same behavior."

Starscream scoffed. "You cannot _possibly_ be comparing our arrangement to Spinnaker and Downdraft."

"Can't I? I _did_ know them better than you ever could claim to've." The femme's pleasant tone turned uncomfortably frosty, once again. The new ire in her gaze spoke of an old emotional pain as plainly as her words did. "...Continue, Doctor."

"Hypothetically? _If_ I were asked my opinion, what would it be?" Knock Out tapped his chin in thought, glancing between the original and the clone. "They're not so ideally separate. Yet."

Ersatz scowled at the cavalier declaration, but managed not to flinch, as Slipstream brushed a servo over his facial scars again. "Well, believe me, Doctor, I'm already beginning to appreciate the _subtler_ differences."

Growling, Starscream took the chance to physically step between his former colleague and his incapacitated student. The surface of his wing prevented Ersatz from seeing Slipstream's reaction. "_O__ut_, you insufferable harlot."

A terse silence ensued. Then, with a snort of suppressed laughter, the seeker femme took her leave.

Hearing the sickbay doors open and close, and the blessed new absence of departing footsteps, Ersatz vented a sigh, trying to ignore how his intake actuator stuttered with the effort, and in exhaling forced enough air through his vocalizer to utter one word:

"...Glitch."

For his part, Knock Out turned to his patient and smirked warily. "My sentiments exactly."

Starscream swept the vacated chair away from the operating berth with perhaps a tad more force than was necessary, watching as it crashed to a stop against the wall. "Curse her how you want. I _highly_ doubt we've heard the end of this."

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Brought to readers, in part, by Linkin Park's new album, _Living Things_. I'm loving it, so much more than _A Thousand Suns_.

No, Slipstream's not there just for the sake of being a glitch. Like I said, she has a part to play, and the reasons for her bothersome conduct, and how she got from Junkion to Earth, will become clear at a later date. As will explanations as to what's happened between the end of the last chapter and this one. *promises*

To those who are concerned: it's _not_ the foundation for the 'domestic' set-up you might think it is. Sorry to those who were hoping it would be.

Names like Spinnaker and Downdraft are as close to actual OCs as will appear in this story. Which is to say they won't. Fear not.


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Finer Details

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** A computer-free, house-sitting stint delayed the release of this chapter. The upside to that was I had five free day hiatus to review my notes for the remainder of the story, reread what I have uploaded so far, and I have come up with a couple new ideas for filler chapters as a result.

Also, is it premature of me to be contemplating a sequel/spin-off already (I blame/credit LP's _Living Things_), when I'm not even sure how exactly many chapters of BITS are left before its 'conclusion'? I have a tentative outline/idea that keeps circling my mind's eye, and it would be more appealing to different demographics of readers than BITS has proven to be. My only concern is if the few lines of plot I'm thinking of would be too cliche.

Enough talk of the future and past. Back to the present tense.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Eighteen: Finer Details  
_

* * *

He flew for the wall. Brakes pulled up, decreasing his airspeed, Ersatz spun at the last possible moment, transformed, and succeeded in landing upright upon the cliff's edge, albeit dropping into a crouch. Forcing himself to stand up straight, he managed to cover avoid wincing.

His proximity sensors were perfectly in line. Something else wasn't.

The present audience, already waiting upon the ledge, reclining against a nearby oak tree, noticed the pained, halting edge to his student's movements.

"She scrapped you that bad?"

Ersatz ignored the quip, more interested in frowning at the status diagnostic on his HUD. _Ninety-eight?_ Where was it reading his systems at only ninety-eight percent converted?

He looked down, and saw the reason protruding from his side. With one hand he forced the open panel of dislocated dermal plating into place, where it fit with a harsh _snap_. A second systems check then read the initiated transformation sequence at one-hundred percent completion.

After enduring a few reconstructive operations, only the most stubborn of the damaged gears were still sticking.

He still didn't appreciate being reminded of who it was whom had imparted said wounds.

"Indeed, Starscream. Because Primus knows it would _not_ have happened to you. No, in _your_ present state, had you been sent to investigate, Slipstream would have reduced you to little more than a smoking crater in the ground."

Blinking at the acerbic words, Starscream hiked a brow before returning focus to the scanner in his hand. "...In a bad mood today, are we?"

Ersatz grimaced and sighed, holding a hand to his abdomen. "Still recovering from surgery, and being around you, tends to inspire that in me. I don't know _why_."

"Hmm," Starscream paused, adjusting the scanner's diodes, smirking when the device chimed an affirmative, pinpointing a reading upon its screen. "Well, try to keep it to a minimum. Now we have the signal, Megatron will expect this scouting mission to last no longer than a megacycle. Experience tells us that's the average window of time it'll take for the Autobots to detect our life signals. For whatever reason, they've become quite lacking in their average response times as of late."

"Yes, yes. I _was_ listening when he said as much, and we should presume we have less time than that," Ersatz muttered, wings lowering. He took a glance at the scanner's screen before turning to begin walking in the given direction. "I was also listening when he said it was our duty to take samples that'll confirm the ship's sensors _did_ detect a fresh energon vein, unnaturally close to the surface."

He stopped short as the other grasped his arm. "Hold it. While you being snide toward me is one thing - "

"Mute it, Starscream. You've already noted my sour disposition for all concerned. I doubt anything you could have to say will do wonders to cheer me up."

_Clank._

Sharp talons grazed against his face in a light, but unmistakable slap. He flinched a second time when the older seeker growled, uncomfortably close and right next to his audio, "...I wasn't intending to, you presumptuous _upstart_."

Scowling, Ersatz averted his gaze, took a step back, and reached up to wipe his twinging cheek. He only relaxed upon seeing his servo came away clean.

_One less cut, and potential scar, to worry about._

Looking back, Starscream was still glaring at him. The digits of his free hand clenched and flexed, as he was likely working to keep his own temper under control, and resisting the temptation to inflict worse damage. "As your _mentor_, I was only going to ask what's prompted it. I _am_ aware we haven't had much time to converse these last few solar cycles."

Though the scowl remained, Ersatz heaved a deep sigh and loosely crossed his arms. "It's... I've just been more... on edge since I heard Slipstream would be... remaining with our detachment."

"Well, don't take it out on me," Starscream huffed, wings twitching upward, affronted. His attention went back to the scanner. "Primus also knows I've encountered more than enough of _that_ in my life already."

_None of which you brought on yourself, right?_

Ersatz shook his helm, disregarding the would-be jibe, as well as any lurking quips as to how his very existence would indirectly qualify him as another of his creator's mishaps. What progress could the clone claim to have made if he counted himself as nothing more than a half-failed project at this point?

"And I'm sure you argued against it as much as was possible, counselor. If Thundercracker and Skywarp are still out there somewhere, you definitely would not want her getting any funny ideas about somehow making us her new wingmates."

"In the event, what I don't _want_ is for Megatron to take those suggestions seriously. With him convinced, then there'd be no denying it," Starscream clarified, with an inkling of unease. Slowly, his wings drooped, unconsciously signifying his downturn in mood. "It's not so easy to argue when, for better or worse, we three _are_ all technically trineless, and operating in a group would satisfy many demands of our core programming, even at the cost of offending our higher thought processes."

_Yet another drawback to being a seeker. Among others._

The younger flier merely sighed again, and tried to take some solace in 'admiring' their surroundings. Below the forested ledge upon which they stood, a vista of deciduous trees stretched off into the distance, green vegetation bathed in rays of late afternoon sunlight. Appreciating the view for what it was worth, organic filthiness in all its glory, the scowl eventually melted from his expression. "Should I take that to mean Knock Out is somewhat correct?"

Starscream glanced back at the clone, eyebrows perked in confusion. "About what?"

"About us seekers not being truly cut out for war, given our inherent _need_ to be with our own kind, under any circumstances?" Reading the former second's suddenly-darkly suspicious glower, Ersatz defensively added, "I don't mean anything ill by having talked about it with him. These things come up in conversation."

Though he rolled his optics and exhaled in irritation, apparently, Starscream readily resigned himself to giving yet another unprepared explanation, and returned to the oak tree he had been leaning against. "That would be another query in which 'yes and no' would be the best summation."

Ersatz blinked, belatedly recognizing the scope of the issue his questions touched upon. "Uh, maybe, but is _here_ necessarily the best time for me to be given this lesson?"

His timid tone only prompted an amused smile to grace his creator's faceplates. "Don't fret. It's only an energon spike, one that could be verified any other solar cycle, by any other team, if _our_ being dispatched is any measurement of its significance. I'll square anything Megatron has to say, should we return a nanoklik _later_ than he would have preferred."

Ersatz's wings folded back. "I'm more immediately worried as to what you said about Autobots picking up our life signals."

"Why? You could fly away."

The younger seeker stared, befuddled. "And leave you behind to... what?"

"To keep them talking long enough for you to call in reinforcements. One dependable thing to be said about Autobots, in most cases they will ask you a _why_ before shooting." Starscream shook his helm, his expression turned almost pitying. "Honestly, the things I have to explain to you sometimes..."

Reminded of why he so stubbornly despised his ever-condescending creator, Ersatz's gaze hardened. He folded his arms more tightly across his chest, hips off-center, intentionally imitating an often-seen stance. "Try to pardon my boundless ignorance, then, oh wise one, even as it was you who gifted me with such a wonderful disposition."

A flicker of uncomprehending surprise crossed Starscream's face before he glowered with plain annoyance. Ire crept into his voice. "Do you want to hear answers, or do you want to explain to Megatron why I left you to go find that vein yourself?"

Ersatz's wings fell flat with a noticeable _click_ against his back. Of all the potential responses his processor recommended, he chose instead to remain meekly quiet.

"That's better." Starscream's smile returned, and he took a final glance at the scanner before settling into a comfortable lean against the sturdy, old oak. "Now, the question, in its most basic terms: are seekers, behaviorally, meant for war? Ultimately, yes, and I say that as someone who has studied and seen the effects for themselves."

Ersatz remained silent, pondering this. In contrast to his errant impulses, he chose a sensible tact: asking questions a sane being would ask, in a sane manner. Not as a clone who knew all his borderline-insane (no, most likely insane) creator's history, and wished to challenge the actuality every memory to crawl before his mind's eye.

_Start simple. Work your way up from there._

"You're from Vos, then?"

"Most seekers and aerial classes my age are. Those too old to've been are most likely dead, or those who were brought online after the fact are too young."

"And your stint with the Air Command began only after you were... trined?"

"Seekers enrolled in the Academy, whatever their field they were trained in prior to serving, were expected to. It'd always been customary practice for our class, ever since the Well began producing sparks, and continued on, even when replication became achievable through other means."

"But why just seekers? What of shuttles or other aerials? Don't they group together?"

"Yes, but not with the same logic in mind. Their programming isn't as... admittedly, fractal. Form follows function, in that the usual burdens larger fliers usually undertake - cargo hauling, long-range exploration - there are fewer social stressors present in those given duties than they need concern themselves with."

Ersatz frowned. "And seekers do, why?"

"Because we are, on an individual level, among the smallest kinds of aerial types. Flocking was as a means of ensuring looking out for one's interests, one looked out for the overall group. To borrow another human expression, we felt safety in numbers."

_And, already being of the fractal mindsets we are, we took to an extreme?_

Ersatz tapped his claws against his still-folded arms. The abrupt fluttering of many feathered wings intruded on his thoughtful spell. He looked up to see a group of small, black avians taking flight from the surrounding grove, chirping and wheeling about each other as if providing a prompt illustration of Starscream's words.

He watched the flock depart, thinking little of its coincidental take-off, before posing the next question. "Fair to say this practice not meld easily with the demands of war?"

Starscream scowled, as though he found his student's momentary fascination with the blackbirds annoying, but following a moment's pause he shrugged and continued talking, in an almost detached voice:

"Few _did_. But as far as trining went, there was a period of dissension, in light of escalating political instabilities throughout the planet. Vos had the highest concentration of aerial castes of any city on Cybertron. That's why the Air Command was where it was. Even though Vos remained comparatively neutral in the beginning, certain demographics began to part company as the war intensified, and schisms, social and political, began to develop within the Command's hierarchy.

"The very formation of the Air-Army Corps was the first major sign that change was finding its way into Air Command procedure. Some believed it would become necessary to have a militantly-trained force of seekers, knowledgeable in ground tactics, in the event of hostilities reaching a new high."

"...Needless to say, they did?"

Starscream waved a dismissive hand. "And the rest is history. In how this pertains our current problem, Slipstream's behavior is somewhat understandable. Whatever became of her trinemates, whether they survived Junkion, I doubt she willingly parted company from them."

"Like you didn't willingly part from Thundercracker and Skywarp?"

"...I was speaking hypothetically. Based on the knowledge of having seen other trines become... dismantled, and what generally happens to those left behind."

"And you're one such example," Ersatz clarified. "Taken to the inth degree."

"As of now, that's all in _theory_."

The younger seeker growled, having reached his tolerance of indirect answers. "It's _fact_, Starscream. Your wingmates aren't _here_. You're as trineless as I was the day you brought me online. You said for yourself that the time spent parted from them could have been detrimental to your psyche. After what I've seen, in you and myself, I might actually inclined to believe you on - "

Ersatz stopped short, realizing what ground he had just given: that of actually rationalizing and _identifying_ with the former second's opinion, something he had resolved not to do, and inwardly panicked.

Outwardly, it manifested in a ridiculing tirade, which he easily gave into:

"Or I might _not_. Why should I? You could've simply been this deluded, arrogant, and crazy since forever, and _enjoy_ being what you are. And Thundercracker and Skywarp just had the good graces to put up with you, neuroses and all. Because no one else _would_. Not even - ay-_umph_!"

Starscream lashed out at him. The clone reacted a moment too late, falling sprawled on the ground, before being forcibly wrenched around, held fast to the base of the oak tree. Jarring static burst over his comlink receiver as the back of his helm collided against the trunk. One wing bent at an uncomfortable angle beneath his frame.

But of greater concern were the long, black claws tightly encircling his neck.

Starscream made no move to speak. For having just physically debased and pinned his student, he was unnervingly quiet about it. Not a hiss, growl, or screech to be heard. He only leaned over his student and glared a stoic, unrelenting glare.

Despite himself, Ersatz gave a nervous laugh. "W-what? What'd I say?"

Abruptly, the talons around his neck cables clamped down.

"Too much. Isn't it _painfully_ obvious?"

While didn't exactly hurt, no conscious cybertronian took kindly to being throttled. Intake actuators faltered as airways were closed off. Ersatz writhed, twisted, and tried to pry the other's hand away (no easy feat while trying to avoid accidentally slicing his neck cables open with his own claws), stammering, "Yes, yes. When you p-put it that way, it is."

"About as painfully obvious as your own fast-developing bad habits. One I would recommend you drop as soon as possible: stop trying to psychoanalyze me at every turn. It isn't doing either of us considerable favor, and has only served to further damage your standing with me. Lesson one wasn't said for naught: I'll disclose what you need know as I see fit. And the sooner you get with that program, the sooner it'll pay off."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning you relent to my command now, and your loyalty will be rewarded later. Honestly, how much _simpler_ must I put it?"

_Honestly, would it really __**bother**__ him so much to fathom that even a clone can't find it in themselves to be loyal to him?_

"Rewarded how?"

Starscream answered that with a sighing growl. His grip tightened further, drawing a breathless cough and a more intense bout of squirming from the younger flier.

"Do you trust me enough to let you _go_?"

Again with the T word.

_I trust the fact Megatron would scrap you if you were to do worse._

Ersatz winced. "Y... yes?"

"_Good_. Hang onto that feeling until I tell you otherwise."

As abruptly as it set in, the pressure was gone. Released, Ersatz hurriedly scrambled to drag himself away from the older seeker, gasping.

He stopped short, hearing a horribly familiar _snap_, and looked up.

Starscream's helm whipped around in the direction of the new sound, equally surprised as his understudy, before he grimaced in disappointment. "...Scrap."

Slipstream stood perched at the ledge's edge, arms folded, frowning at them and shaking her helm. With the sun at her back, her platinum-hued armor shone with an almost-blinding radiance, even as her fanned wings cast a rakish, angled shadow.

"Getting along for the betterment of the mission, are we, boys?" she tsk'ed.

Flustered, for more reasons than one, Ersatz forced an awkward cough, but succeeded in putting his airway conduits back where they belonged, stood, and straightened his backstrut. "_Ahem_. Yes, indeed, my dear. Whatever gave you the impression we weren't?"

Starscream cast him a puzzled look complete with a hiked eyebrow, as if say, _My 'dear'?_

"...What? You wouldn't call her that?"

"Not even if I _liked_ her."

"Hmh." The femme's amused smirk remained, and she made a show of examining her claws: thinner, silvery digits, with finely-serrated edges. "While offensive to one's self-opinion, I can almost believe that. But it's enlightening to know _one_ of you has retained some sense of manners, nevertheless."

"Then dare I ask, yet again in all that it implies, what you're _doing_ here?" the former SIC deadpanned.

"Again, Commander, nothing much. Just providing the backup Megatron thought to send out as insurance. I tried to hail you both over the comlink. When no one answered, I took it on myself to perform a little fly-by."

Ersatz's wings twitched, confused as to why Slipstream would start to walk his way. He openly balked when she lifted a servo toward him, presumably with the intent of looking him over for injuries.

Starscream made no move to stop her.

The younger seeker immediately stepped several paces back, hands raised defensively, wary. Something about the very-forward confidence of the motion reminded him too much of Airachnid (the impression of whose creepily-sadistic ways had easily transposed themselves from the clone's borrowed memories to his own).

Not to mention the fact this very femme had, less than a week ago, tried to kill him. That was reason enough to be leery.

Slipstream actually giggled at his show of nervousness. "_Was_ it a good idea for me to drop by, Commander?"

Starscream shrugged, dismissive. "Tch. Whatever you saw, it was nothing. Ersatz here just takes after me in the fact he can, at times, be rather obstinate. Lessons take a few repeatings before they sink in. But never would I deign to _significantly_ injure him."

Said seeker clone bristled, holding a servo to his throat. Undamaged as though it presently was, he scowled in remembrance of his 'mentor' quite deliberately firing a missile into his chest at point-blank range (omitting the fact it was Ersatz who shot first).

"Liar. You already have."

"Then don't give me another reason to, you'll be safe from further harm. How does that sound?"

Slipstream shook her helm again, arms refolding. Her tone turned disapproving. "Contrary to what I've heard, I _was_ expecting better than petty bickering. How foolish of me. Almost a month into this _experiment_, and you two are still doing little more besides argue with such brotherly passion, why?"

Ersatz scoffed. That the seeker femme would know the details as to his onlining did not surprise him. A few days had passed their battle in Iceland. While he was being repaired, it stood to reason Slipstream would have asked questions in the meantime and, most likely, found some answers. From who, was the nagging question, albeit for another time.

"Take another look at who you're talking to, and try asking that again, _glitch_."

Slipstream's eyebrows lifted high at his abruptly-brutish choice of address, but she offered no retort.

Uncaring for however uncouth he came across, Ersatz took that as his cue to step away from her. To level a derogatory name at the seeker femme felt gratifying, and he was momentarily inclined to settle for less. "Now, did you have an actual point in being here, or are you just visiting to voice long-festering criticisms?"

"Besides help locate that energon vein, yes. I was hoping to talk to you about - "

"Save your breath. The answer is no."

"But, Commander - "

"And only in this context will I tell you to stop referring to me by that title, Slipstream. Flattery will get you nowhere. As an _adviser_, I no longer hold a rank, and for the time being I _am_ content keep it that way."

She scowled. "Please. Of all that can be said about you, to be _content_ isn't something you handle very well. It never was."

"Call it a recent development," Starscream replied, unfazed. "Not unlike your latent chattiness and readability, let's say: bewildering, but not all that impressive upon further reflection."

"Kind of like your latent bid to overthrow Megatron using only a handful of poorly-formatted clones?"

For once, Ersatz harbored no qualms of knowingly imitating his creator's dark, resentful stare.

Faced with those two near-identical looks of brooding hatred, Slipstream smiled and merely laughed it off. "Contrary to what you both seem to think, I'm not here to... how the humans say... bust anyone's bearings."

"_Right_. Your vengeful behavior in Iceland does _not_ support such a claim."

Ersatz's scowl deepened as she turned back to him and made a short bow. "For that, I apologize. Personal feelings got the better of me. Were it any other Decepticon who had responded to my hail, I would've passively allowed myself to be detained."

He glowered. "Yes, I'm sure..."

"Which begs a new question, as in _how_ did you get here?" Starscream asked, with a typical air of tentative suspicion. There clearly wouldn't be any progress made in talking the femme into leaving. "You... survived Junkion?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Far as I know."

"How?"

Slipstream made a face, as though relaying the story was reason for her to be ashamed. "By chance, really. In rounding up the locals for enslavement, the _Tidal Wave_ made a final sweep, picking up any wounded or near-dead to add to their complement, before leaving to pursue the _Nemesis_. Or so I was told. Axer and the Star Seekers are not the most _reputable_ sources ever created. Either way, it worked out for the better. What would those space pirates mind if one of their lesser starships went missing?"

Ersatz sighed quietly, listening, holding a servo to his brow. There was nothing like hearing a new version of memorized events to bring on another processor ache. Particularly when those memories were of minimal dimension.

"And you came all this way, after all that time, just to exact revenge for supposedly being left behind?"

"On the contrary, Starscream, I was summoned."

"S_ummoned_? Why was _I_ never informed of this?"

"...As someone who has, by some quirk of fate, remained stationed with the Decepticon brass for millennia, and recently been demoted to no more than a supporting role, you're _really_ going to ask me that?"

"..."

Ersatz put words to his original's sullen silence. "Hmph. There's your answer, my dear."

"Stop calling her that."

"What _should_ I call her, then?"

"Lieutenant would be nice enough," Slipstream offered, smiling warmly.

Starscream sneered unkindly. "Yes. Nice enough, but by no means _official_."

"Good point, counselor."

"Don't call me that, either!"

Evidently, Slipstream did not see the humor in letting their renewed banter spiral out of control. Ersatz blinked, not anticipating the sudden databurst icon that flashed across his HUD.

And from his mirrored expression of bewilderment, neither had his 'brother'.

"Either of you care to argue otherwise with me now?" she challenged.

The contained file was a statement, written in Cybertronian glyphs. The bulk of the message was unimpressive. Of greater note were its imprinting and being coded with the electronic equivalent of a signature, speaking to its legitimacy as being a document dictated and signed by the Decepticon warlord.

"Starscream, Lord Megatron has appointed me as your overseer of Ersatz's training. Effective immediately. In the interests of speeding up his progress, in aerial, as well as terrestrial, combat."

Both seeker mechs exchanged a frown before glaring at the femme between them.

By contrast, the warm smile returned to Slipstream's face.

"Now... shall we go find that vein, gentlemen?"

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Yeah. Exposition. N.Q.B. And Slipstream [whose means of surviving Junkion is a liberally-rewritten version of what happened to Axer in _Exiles_] pulls rank. Please don't hate me for taking the cheap route with that strand of backstory. Perhaps I will explore it more thoroughly in the future. Hers is a role that's going to be tricky enough to balance in later scenes.

Sorry to those of you who were expecting Autobots. That'll come next chapter. ;D

...And am I the only one who laughs every time EZ calls SS "counselor"? I guess that's my love of _Law & Order_ showing through. XD


	20. Chapter Nineteen: The Same Difference

**Disclaimer:** "Transformers: Prime" is © Hasbro Studios.

**Warning:** Spoilers related to the latter half of season two.

**Notes:** Time-jump. To a dialogue-heavy installment. With the added challenge of writing both characters in vehicle form for the entire duration.

See closing thoughts for apologies to those who were expecting action.

* * *

_**"Burning In The Skies"  
**__Chapter Nineteen: The Same Difference_

* * *

Aboard the ship, it was easy enough to retire to one's quarters and lock the door behind them. Relative privacy was assured.

In the field, there was no point in trying to avoid or outrun her. So he didn't.

Insults and the initial attempt on his life aside, compared to his usual dull and dreary options for conversation, Slipstream was proving herself to be a remarkably tolerable companion. One such morning, they had spent on long-range patrol, their fifth together in as many solar cycles, each one as mundane as the simple energon vein expedition, which had turned up negative. Ersatz cared naught for what actual portion of Earth they were presently circling, but his navigational aids said their route was taking them somewhere over the northern Atlantic, southwest of Europe.

Resigned to tolerating her presence, he had also quickly learned to give up maintaining a stubborn, resentful silence. It turned out to be a waste of computing power. Within a few megacycles of their first patrol together, he had found himself carrying on surprisingly easy conversation with Slipstream. Why, still escaped him. Perhaps the femme's so-called harmless queries were too full of import, too tempting to be ignored. At any rate, maybe her company - outside of the _Nemesis_ - was a welcome change of pace from that of the ever-reticent eradicons.

And he wouldn't learn anything useful in return by playing the silent card for very long.

Somewhere close to midday, their benign discussion devolved unto issue of citing personal faults. Naturally, making use of her superior rank, Slipstream wasn't detailing hers, but asking Ersatz of his. And, rather than try (and probably fail miserably) in explaining himself, the clone turned toward listing the faults of his creator.

Within moments, she saw right through any would-be explanation to the root of the problem.

"_It's that bad, is it?_"

"What is?"

The sight to his left side remained the same, so he did not look back. His scanners said another fighter jet remained cruising there, two hundred yards from his wingtip. Slipstream's chosen alt mode was practically the same as his, save for the platinum hue to its surfaces, interspersed with bands of paint along the fuselage and tail.

He was still debating whether to feel comforted or bothered by the choice. Surely there were other alternatives she might have chosen from, to bring some more variety into the mix?

"_You. Having to put up with Starscream. As well as the other way around. It seems like quite the double-edged thesis to me._"

"It has its drawbacks, yes. We suffer from the same differences, me even moreso. He's tasked with monitoring my training, so that I might somehow evolve differently, whereas it's _his_ botched reputation I must rail against, because it's his identity I share, for better or worse."

_And as of late, it's erred toward worse and worse._

He wasn't about to tell Slipstream that. In time, she would most likely find out for herself.

"_My mistake. Sounds like an even trade._"

He sighed. So much for hoping she would take his side.

"Forget I said anything, then. You have _no_ idea, Lieutenant. And believe me when I say you don't _want_ to have one. It's enough of a challenge to keep my own thoughts straight and exclusive from _his_, without having to somehow explain the difficulties of that to another party."

Satisfied or put off, the femme quieted.

For all of ten nanokliks.

"_So... what's with the designation, 'Ersatz'?_"

_A persistently chatty one, isn't she? Quite the reverse of what she once was - closed off and retiring. Only the snarkiness seems to have remained the same._

He smothered a growl before it could sound, speaking tightly, "What do you _think_? It's an appropriate choice. The definition of the word... fits me."

To say it complimented him was giving the idea (or _joke_) too much credit. How could a word that meant "inferior copy" possibly be used in a complimentary sense?

"_Maybe. But you didn't even contest it?_"

"I couldn't. When it's Megatron who bestows such a moniker, one don't have much say in the matter. Wouldn't you agree?"

To his surprise, she gave the retort a moment's thought.

To his bewilderment, she took it as reason to divulge an iota of personal testimony.

"_I wouldn't say 'agree', but I can... relate. Spinnaker went through a similar scenario back on Cybertron._"

_Spinnaker and Downdraft. Her split-spark wingmates?_

Ersatz feigned not knowing otherwise. As long as Slipstream had willingly posed a topic alluding to days gone by, he wasn't about to tune it out.

"Who?"

"_One of my trinemates, his original designation was Spinner. Why? Couldn't fly in a straight line to save his life. When word came down from the Air Command recordkeepers that a new flier was to transfer to our squadron with the same name, they recommended he take a new one._"

Ersatz ran the math, trying to come up with an explanation without asking. Trines - as he had been taught - were the most basic, troop-building unit for seekers, in any field. These formations numbered anywhere from three to five wingmates (three being the most common, hence the term). Five or more trines comprised a wing. Two wings constituted a squadron.

With this communal framework, was individuality only encouraged in the sense that no two bots could share a designation?

Even to his ears, it sounded almost petty.

"Why him and not the newcomer? Did his seniority count for nothing?"

"_It was too close of an age margin to call. Compared to how we ranked against other trines, at the time, he didn't have the grounds to make an appeal. I suppose he assured himself by what he was always telling me and Downdraft: 'He won't last. And the day he goes down, I'll be taking my rightful name back.'_"

The unspoken "remind you of anyone" needed not be said.

Ersatz's wing flaps twitched without conscious consent at the implication, mildly frustrated as he was that his alt mode lacked a mouth to frown with.

"Did he know this mech personally?"

"_Somewhat. If you can call the odd verbal fistfight at the bar personal._"

"What happened?"

"_He got over it, and the other bot's trine was eventually reassigned. But secretly, I was sure he would've been completely elated if the name Spinner had ever turned up on a given casualties list, preferably KIA._"

"I'd say. Who would be happy to have been forced to trade in their given name for something nautical and unbefitting?"

Slipstream, as she veered away, didn't give him much in the way of an answer.

"_Course correct, kid: ten degrees left._"

He scoffed at the interruption, belatedly turning to follow. The view of empty ocean below them, deep blue water, dotted with pockets of startlingly white clouds, didn't change much with the adjustment in heading. "Copy. I noticed that."

"_Well, from where I am, you suddenly looked a mite too lost in thought. You trying to have me believe you didn't already know about Spinnaker and Downdraft?_"

He brushed off the accusation, firing back with one of his own. "I may have already known _of_ their names, Slipstream, but for me, _knowing_ is word with an entirely different context than the average mech. Particularly in regard to matters of a past tense. So you'd do well to keep your attempts to pick my brain at a minimum."

"_Can you blame me for trying? It's rather easy to forget you're a copy and not the mech himself._"

"Oh, I'm sure Starscream would be _elated_ to hear that."

Slipstream laughed in his ear, the sound of her voice made uncomfortably close via the comlink, despite the air between them. "_I wouldn't think so. Between making a real name for yourself and not, EZ, from what I've seen, he seems kind of... torn about it._"

Ersatz slowed, confused, but not for the impromptu coining of a new nickname.

Were they still speaking of the same individual?

Being of the disposition he was, he couldn't help asking. "...Torn, how?"

"_Well, it's as though he wants to see you distinguish yourself, for simple argument's sake, let's assume. To see if it can be done. But he can't bring himself to accept that outcome, should it ever pass, for fear of how the change could reflect upon him. Don't you think he's been feeling as much conflict of interest as you are?_"

Outwardly, Ersatz quieted, inwardly marveling at how Slipstream could have possibly deduced such a thing, within the course of a few days, no less. Being so single-mindedly concerned with his own interests, the younger seeker had maintained a mostly-defensive front in dealing with Starscream, caustic and volatile as those dealings usually were. Never had the clone stopped to assume the passive-aggressive impacts his behavior may have been having upon his creator.

Had it been the case all along?

"It... didn't cross my mind."

"_Not even once?_"

He managed not to snap angrily back at her blandly unimpressed tone. "No, Lieutenant."

"_How come?_"

"...Selfish blindness, maybe? There's one subject Starscream would know plenty about."

"_I see. He could admire you for retaining that trait._"

"Hardly. I'm too recent a development, unawares as to the full scope of the struggle and woe in his life. A revelation that minor, what would you think he'd do, pat me on the head and say, 'Attaboy'?"

"_Hmm. One can't deny it'd be a funny sight if he did._"

The smile was palpable in her words. Ersatz sighed, bitter over the fact no one seemed to be taking his arguments seriously. "Yes. Because that's what I must exist for, Lieutenant: to imbue others with a sense of humor. Megatron must have been shy a source of comic relief for his warship."

"_Not so much others as just Starscream. Like the two sides of a coin, you compensate for what he lacks. His know-how and experience, weighed against your callowness and outside-of-the-box thinking. The downside would be in the overproportionate overlap of behaviors you share._"

Ersatz abruptly turned his focus to his systems readouts. He wasn't about to offer verbal acceptance of that comparison.

"_Which would make him, what, your brother, your predecessor, your creator...?_"

"None of the above. He's _just_ Starscream: the trademark who can't decide if my existence grossly infringes on his, or not. Nothing more, nothing less. To call him a sibling or anything like it implies too much of a connection. Something Decepticons aren't exactly known for are compassionate bonds."

"_Oh, we can be. Like most things, it depends on who you talk to, young EZ._"

"Don't... call me that."

Slipstream merely laughed again, abruptly broke formation, and cut her way through a nearby bank of clouds. At this altitude, pockets of dense water vapor were many and varied, drifting about as if begging to be flown into. Keeping his nosecone pointed forward and his control surfaces flat, Ersatz resisted some inexplicable impulse to join the femme in her momentary escapade, too caught up with processing, and filing away, this new influx of data.

Re-emerging, she made a wide, half-rolling turn before returning to the empty sky off of his left wingtip.

"_What? Did I pry a bit too much, there?_"

_I'm beginning to think you simply __**being**__ here is prying too much._

He scoffed. "No, not at all. What is this landmass I'm reading on radar, three hundred miles to our east?"

To his surprise, Slipstream took the absentminded question seriously. "_The... local name for it is Spain, I believe. Why? You curious enough to shake patrol to take a look?_"

"Not exactly. I was merely wondering as to what's the sense of our patrolling over the ocean, when there is nothing out here that we need patrol _for_?"

"_In other words, why are we here instead of there? Heh. Not for you to worry about, EZ._"

"I said, don't call me that, _Lieutenant_."

"_Don't blow a circuit. I heard you the first time._"

Baited silence whistled through the open comlink channel before both seekers gave in at virtually the same moment.

"_So..._"

"Was there anything _else_ you wanted to ask?"

Past experience told Ersatz he would most likely regret asking Slipstream to continue with making her inquiries, considering the likeliness of her harboring ulterior motives. But apparently, neither of them wished to abide quiet for very long, and it would be better to settle misgivings out here, under the relative privacy that came with being a great distance from the _Nemesis_.

"_Somewhat. Most questions would pertain to explaining Starscream's latent conduct. Besides you, of course. I find some given aspects of his situation... peculiar._"

"Like?"

"_There're still some stories I've yet to hear in their entirety,_" she admitted. "_Like the matter of his T-Cog, and precisely how it went missing._"

Ersatz's engines whined a close imitation of a sigh. _So she cuts right to the issue of how he came to be grounded. Naturally._

There was a matter, whenever it was brought up, always left him feeling unduly humiliated and embarrassed. Most annoying, considering the seeker clone had nothing to actually be embarrassed about.

And now, here he was, put in the position of being asked how it all transpired.

"What _about_ his T-Cog?"

"_How long has he been without flight?_"

"A while."

Another tense silence ensued before she voiced the next inevitable question: "_Do you care to be more specific than that?_"

"No. I prefer to keep the subject at arm's length. And you seem to be finding these things out well enough without asking more questions of me, Lieutenant. Why start now?"

"_I just thought I'd give you your fair chance to tell your version of events._"

"Oh?"

"_Is that you acknowledging there's something to tell?_"

"No. I'm only interested as to _why_ it is you'd be interested to hear of such a thing from _me_. My recollections of Starscream's time as a rogue aren't as crystal-clear as some would prefer, and on this T-Cog matter, you _might_ be better off seeking the firsthand account from _him_."

"_We both know he won't oblige me that._"

"Your loss. Not mine. I'm amassing my own portfolio of troubles without dwelling so much on his."

"_Funny how that ability to recall his memories seems to come and go with you._"

He bristled again, losing himself in another rant borne of repressed anger and frustration. "According to whom? You? Knock Out? The eradicons? My _grasp_ of these copied memories is no more my gifted 'talent' than it is my deciding flaw. Most are hazy, half-rendered editions of what actually happened. The obfuscation that keeps me from discerning their full scope comes and goes. Can you honestly tell me said ability to recall is not afflicted by the same malefactors present in the average Cybertronian?"

"_My, my. Touchy. Your nerves certainly seem to be of a different mapping than Starscream's._"

"Oh, thank you. There's at least _one_ thing I may call my own."

"_Not so different from how he must feel of talking about his missing transformation component, I imagine._"

Ersatz abruptly angled his VTOL thrusters forward and down, killing power to his main engine, slowing to a near-stop in midair. "Liken it how you please, Lieutenant."

Slipstream belatedly thought to stop and overflew his position. Circling back, she slowed down to hover before him, sunlight glinting harshly off the green-tinted glass of her alt mode's cockpit. "_Well. Is this one of those matters where my interest in the subject trumps yours?"_

"It could be. My only concerns are to when and how he might find a replacement, and what it would mean for my situation."

"_By your tone, I'd say you either looking forward to that, or dreading it. Which might it be?_"

"Most definitely the latter. He's unbearable as it is. Being allowed to fly would only throw more fuel on the fire."

She yawed to one side, using carefully-applied adjustments of her thrusters to circle him lazily. "_It doesn't disappoint you? To think you can't pit your aerial prowess against his?_"

Ersatz swallowed another urge to growl. As a seeker, Slipstream knew exactly what buttons to push, taunting tone and all.

"What prowess?" he muttered, weaving aside and disengaging his thrusters to resume flying south. "I'm inferior to him in every other way. Aerial skill is most likely included."

His audios picked up a terse _whoosh_ of a firing engine, as she moved to follow him. "_You seem to be his better in terms of selling yourself short, though. What do you think he'd say, hearing you talk about yourself like this?_"

"I couldn't really bring myself to care what he would say. But, again, he'd most likely be elated. To know that even a mere clone cannot find it in himself to be as confidently arrogant, to think he cannot in any way parallel his original's _magnificence_ - all the more legitimate reason for him to talk _down_ to me."

"_As I thought: the sarcasm reading is off the meter with you two._"

He scoffed. "There aren't many other tropes I can use with any measure of enjoyment at this point. What fun could I possibly have without it?"

"_Point. Rumor has it you have been kept on a short leash._"

"Indeed?" Ersatz asked flatly, disregarding the nagging impulse to openly deny his lot in life was so limited (painfully true as it was). "What else do those so enlightened have to say?"

"_Your overall service can be summed up as nominal at best, and something about continued testing hasn't shown any medical basis as to why that lack of improvement may be._"

_Funny how everyone seems to believe so, but no one sees fit to tell me __**exactly**__ what it is I need be improving in._

Ersatz couldn't dismiss the thought. Perhaps there was an indirect reason for the others entertaining his ambitions. Those who, having known Starscream for so long, probably took some sadistic liking in seeing the former SIC's clone flounder aimlessly.

"And you subscribe to this diagnosis, Slipstream?"

"_I only just became aware of it at all, Ersatz. Most of this questioning stems from the fact I'm still making up my mind about you._"

_Once she excluded the whole kill-me-on-sight incident, of course._

"Megatron didn't _inform_ you of as much when he first contacted you?"

"_No. I was simply ordered to report to Earth as soon as possible._"

"...Nothing more?"

"_Nothing more._"

"...Exactly how long had you been in communication with the Decepticons since escaping from the _Tidal Wave_, Lieutenant?"

"_What does that matter?_"

He chuckled to himself, pleased to hear a guarded undercurrent coloring those words. There was another welcome change from her suave, self-assured composure. "Precisely what I'm _trying_ to deduce, my dear."

_And if even I am unsure as to what hidden territory I'm plying toward, how can you draw an answer out of me?_

Mystification through provocation. The seeker femme did not take kindly to it. "_Bit of advice: keep your hands out of matters that don't concern you, kid_."

"Or what? I might lose a servo or two? I'd be doomed to let others walk all over me for the rest of eternity if I don't start giving as good as I get, Lieutenant."

"_You don't practice said jibes on those bearing a higher rank._"

"Rank? As if. On what grounds must I respect your authority if is not so long term? What if your being here is nothing more than a temporary commission, orchestrated to help facilitate an unfolding ploy?"

"_That's nothing more than you reading too much into matters you do not understand._"

"So you and everyone else keep telling me. Without citing anything more original than my own sub-par processors couldn't handle such sensitive information."

"_I can give you a new reason..._"

"By all means, don't keep me in suspense."

"_I don't mean to cut in. But would either of you care to put these disgusting flirtations on hold long enough to investigate a disturbance two hundred miles to your east?_"

Ersatz flinched, engines faltering, off-set by mingled shock and dismay. Had they been speaking on an open channel the whole time?

By her sudden silence, and subsequently taut reply, Slipstream's concern was probably much the same. But she covered her surprise with a more pertinent question. "_Copy that. What... kind of disturbance, Starscream?_"

* * *

**Closing Thoughts:** Not much to say, besides admitting the fact this conversation went on way longer than I thought it ever would. Confrontation with the Autobots got pushed back to chapter twenty as a result. These things happen. XS

Oh, and a technical note: I know F-16s are not VTOL (Vertical Take-Off and Landing) aircraft. But according to TFP, they are. The second-to-last scene at the end of "Operation Breakdown" is case in point. I'm assuming some form of internalized thruster system is part of what makes TFP's F-16s stylistically different from their RL equivalents.

**EDIT: 1.5.2013**  
To any who may be wondering, no - I haven't given up on this story. RL and other online obligations have just gotten in the way. I know that sounds fairly disingenuous after leaving it hanging for 5/6 months, but the fact of the matter is (with the remainder of season two now taken into account) I have had to make further alterations regarding BITS' ultimate outcome [so that it may firmly maintain its AU classification]. And so that it doesn't bear too much of a resemblance to certain plot devices from latent episodes. I won't get spoilerish now, but in addition to its drastic change at the conclusion of "Armada" there will soon come another S2 episode whose AU course is significantly different from that of its canonical run.

And let me state again that, I've been working alone on this. I have no beta, or close online friend who is versed enough in TFP lore, to bounce ideas off of or who can offer critique as to what my ideas entail. This is another cause for hesitation on my part, despite wanting to conclude this story in a satisfactory manner, and possibly leave room for a sequel/spin off when all is said and done.

We'll see. And to everyone who has kept this story in their alerts/favs, I'll try my best not to disappoint you - as much as I don't want to disappoint myself in not exploring this idea that [as far as I can tell] no one else has examined in such a fashion.


End file.
